The Holy Tree
by Corcoran
Summary: A story of friendship and magic. I would really apreciate some feedback...
1. Default Chapter

The Holy Tree  
  
By   
  
Corcoran   
  
Chapter 1  
  
Captain Sir Edward Pellew held the note in hands that shook slightly and the good quality cream coloured parchment trembled with them. So many years spent alone. As alone as one can be commanding a warship of some four hundred souls. Even unsigned he would have known the sender. He knew that handwriting as he knew his own. Two paragraphs, signed with a 'J' rune. Who else would sign his name thus? Pellew shook his head in amazement and bit his lip. He really didn't know what to feel or to think.   
  
His first though was one of disbelief. He was dreaming. He must be.   
  
The disbelief was replaced by anger. Who did he think he was to walk back into his friend's life after fifteen years silence?   
  
The anger drained away as quickly as it had risen. It was entirely likely that his friend had been on a mission so dangerous as to make any contact impossible. In fact it was more than likely.   
  
What was not likely was that he'd been forgotten. Jack had a long memory and they had been close, far closer than Captain and First Lieutenant usually were. He remembered that happy time, sitting up late into the night reading aloud to one another or listening to Jack sing in a clear and beautiful tenor voice. He often wrote his own songs, strange, exotic, beautiful creations. He'd accompanied himself on his guitar with boyish enthusiasm. He allowed himself to visualise one of those interludes, Jack's face, slightly reddened with sunburn, his blonde hair falling loose to his shoulders as he crooned to the guitar resting on his knee. What was he singing? Pellew tried to remember the words and was surprised to find that they returned to him as if he had heard them only yesterday:   
  
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,   
  
The holy tree is growing there;   
  
From joy it's holy branches start   
  
And all the trembling flowers they bear.   
  
The changing colours of it's fruit   
  
Have dowered the stars with merry light;   
  
The surety of it's hidden root   
  
Has planted quiet in the night;   
  
The shaking of it's leafy head   
  
Has given the waves their melody,   
  
And made my lips and music wed,   
  
Murmuring a wizard song for thee.*  
  
Jack had looked up quickly and caught him watching, Pellew's breath catching at the beauty of the song. He'd smiled, his dark blue eyes full of warmth and...trust?   
  
Had it really been a spell? It was impossible to tell for certain, not being a wizard himself. He suspected so, the memory clear as it was. A strong feeling of quiet calmness, of green, growing things, of Jack's scent, like newly mown hay stole over him. Suddenly he realised. The song had been a gift. Jack had written the song on the instant and cast the spell into the words to give him comfort when alone. He'd left him a gift that Pellew had been too distressed to use. The memory, until now, had been too painful. Taunting him. He really had been silly over this whole thing. Jack had returned as his final letter had promised he would. He'd said little else. Military Intelligence had sent him on a mission and he had to go alone. The letter had been full of regret and the promise to return when he could. That had been the last Edward Pellew had seen of Jack Hargreaves for fifteen years. Now he'd returned home.   
  
Pellew and his old friend sat one on either side of the fireplace. They hadn't bothered to light the candles because the light from the blaze provided more than enough light for them to see one another's faces.   
  
"I know you can't tell me where you've been but I'm so glad you're home again. I've missed you." Pellew's voice was very quiet. He wasn't comfortable making emotional admissions of that sort. He was always afraid of what the response would be. He looked up, trying to read his friend's face.   
  
"I know because I missed you as well. If I'd had the choice I'd have stayed on board the Merlin with you at my side and we'd have hounded the French until doomsday." His eyes were dark as midnight and the firelight turned his almost-white hair ruddy. In all the years since Pellew had last seen him he hadn't aged a single day. "I couldn't tell you a word of where I'd gone or when I'd be back. I couldn't even write to you. If the letter had fallen into the wrong hand's we'd both have been walking corpses." Pellew wondered if he meant that literally. You could never be quite sure with Jack. "There were even those who could have intercepted our more...unusual modes of communication. I couldn't risk it. Better to have you hate me than put you in that kind of danger." He'd said just enough for Pellew to read between the lines. He'd been dealing with very dark, occult matters.   
  
"I didn't hate you, Jack. I understood you well enough to realise that if you'd left like that, especially without telling me where or why, there must have been a damn good reason for it. For a time I feared you had died but then I realised that if that was so all debts would be payed and you'd have come to see me one last time."   
  
"One last time? No, Pell, I'd have stayed, if that was what you had wanted." The pale face was tranquil but for the eyes. They burned with deep emotion and Pellew had the strangest feeling that Jack was looking not at his body but at his soul. He'd forgotten about that. He looked like one of those statues of Indian saints. The beatific, almost mask like, expression and eyes filled with, endless, burning compassion.   
  
Jack went on "I've completely lost count of the songs, the poetry I wrote in the vain hope of comforting myself. Must have been hundreds." He smiled sadly. The mask slipped and Pellew could see his pain.   
  
He was flabbergasted. To say this disclosure was unexpected was the understatement of the century. He blinked. He blinked again. Jack watched him, his eyes deep as a cloudless summer's night. Waiting. No expectations. He sipped his brandy and when he spoke again his voice was low and musical.   
  
"I wasn't sure you'd be prepared to see me when I got back. I thought you might not have been able to forgive me. That was why I wrote. So you could ignore me if you chose without embarrassment. "   
  
"Ignore you? Heaven grant me patience!" Pellew expostulated, the palms of his hands slapping against the arms of his chair. " I've waited so many years for some kind of explanation. I had to see you again, even if you couldn't give me one. Forgiveness was never an issue, I wasn't angry to begin with." He'd felt devastated, abandoned, broken, hurt to the point of numbness, but not angry. The idea that Jack might have felt the same way had never occurred to him. He'd assumed that either his friend, his Captain, hadn't felt that way or that his vast age had granted him some kind of wisdom that would allow him to put the feelings into a little mental box and ignore them. Apparently neither assumption had been correct.   
  
Jack seemed to pick up on what was not said as well as what was. "I'm so very sorry, Pell..." He did one of those odd, socially inappropriate things that he sometimes did in response to strong emotion. The remnant manners of a time long past or perhaps merely acting as his intuition directed. He slid from his chair, knelt before Pellew and reached for his friend's hands, holding them firmly between his own. Pellew returned the clasp and felt the years rolling back. "Jack, unless you want me to start weeping into my drink, *please* stop apologising. Will it help to say that I forgive you? I do, completely and without reservation but I say it because you need to hear it, not because I feel it's necessary." Jack bowed his head and, his voice soft with emotion, he whispered "Thank you. It's far more than I deserve."   
  
Pellew had had enough of this self-recrimination. This was nothing like his former Captain, usually so supremely confident and self-assured. He leaned forward and lifted Jack's chin with one hand and looked at him sternly. That look had made strong men quake in their boots. He followed this up with an equally stern voice.   
  
"Sir," Jack was his superior officer, after all "you were doing your duty. Do you honestly think I would hold that against you? You can do things that most people would never even dream of. If the Admiralty, the Secret Service or even the Palace wanted something dangerous, difficult and of an occult nature doing of course they would send you. And you would go. You'd never shirk doing your duty what ever your personal feelings might be. Or mine for that matter. And that's how it should be."   
  
"Where did that come from?" asked Jack, an arrested expression on his face "I mean that Look? You never learnt that from me!"   
  
"No, not from you. That was a Pell original. Now, can we lay the matter to rest?"   
  
"Six feet under, if you like!" Jack sounded far more like himself. In a single feline movement he shifted so that he was sitting at Pellew's feet, facing the fire, hugging his knees. Pellew looked down at him affectionately. God, he looked no older than Hornblower. Obviously he'd taken Pellew at his word, he'd relaxed and seemed to be communing with the fire. Scrying, perhaps. Jack seemed to have a never-ending grimoire. His friend had a spell for every occasion. Suddenly Jack turned his head so he could see the other's face.   
  
"I might not be able to talk about my work but that doesn't mean I take no interest in yours, my friend. What have you been doing? You always were a dashing creature. I'm sure that hasn't changed. I'm constantly hearing of your courage, brilliance and your uncanny ability to snatch victory out of the jaws of defeat." He teased his friend gently. "Don't tell me they are exaggerated or mistaken, I simply won't believe it!" he spoke lightly but Pellew could hear the pride in Jack's voice, pride in the man his protege had become.   
  
Pellew let his head fall back against the wing of the chair. Where to begin. The present? The past? There was so much catching up to do. His hand dropped to Jack's shoulder. The contact focussed him.   
  
"I have the privilege of commanding His Majesty's Ship the Indefatigable and it's a fine life. My crew are among the best to be found and I'm so attached to my young Lieutenants that I have difficulty keeping an appropriate distance. The eternal struggle of command. I know you dispensed with all of that but for those of us without your gifts it's necessary."   
  
"Tell me about them. It sounds as if I'd like them."   
  
"You would and I'm sure they'd like you. They're friends. Completely inseparable. I long since gave up trying. They just seem to gravitate together again. They're a formidable team. As different as two people could possibly be. Hornblower is a very serious young man and he has problems with my sense of humour. He can never tell when I'm pulling his leg. It's a bit sad, really. I exert myself to amuse him and he takes me seriously. However, he's a brilliant strategist, bold and inventive. He plays the odds and he plays to win. He's also a born leader. The men would follow him to hell and back. Kennedy is a different type altogether. He's funny, witty and sociable. He laughs at Hornblower constantly, and that balances Hornblower's incipient melancholia. I know he suffered some kind of terrible abuse on board his previous ship and he carries deep scars, which sometimes take the form of fits. I don't know the details of what happened. He never speaks of it, at least not to me. I suspect that Hornblower and some of the men of his division know but they aren't talking. I've met the man responsible and he was a damned nasty piece of work. Capable of anything. I shot him when he tried to kill Hornblower. I've never seen such malice."   
  
He recalled Simpson and the way he cheated during his duel with Hornblower and fired early. Hornblower survived and so had the right to shoot his opponent as he stood. Simpson begged for his life and Hornblower deloped and turned away. Simpson stole a dagger from his second and tried to stab Hornblower in the back. Pellew had shot him through the heart from the top of the nearby cliff at extreme range, a truly prodigious feat.   
  
Jack looked back at him, concerned. He could feel his intuition tugging at him. The there was a lot more to this that there appeared to be.   
  
"Jack, you have that look on your face, as if you're reaching for some thought that hasn't had the good taste to make itself completely plain to you." Jack laughed and rested his head against Pellew's knee, very much at his ease. They seemed to have fallen into their old manner of communication. Disjointed but eloquent. It was as if they'd never been apart.   
  
"You describe it very well. That's exactly how it feels!" Jack chuckled "There's something else going on here but I'm not sure which part of our conversation has raised the hairs on the back of my neck." The blue eyes looked a little perplexed. "Something about Hornblower playing the odds and playing to win. And something about Kennedy being wounded but resilient." he bit his bottom lip and frowned. "Luck...and suffering. Odd...the two are related."   
  
"Is that your opinion as a wizard?" Pellew smiled down at his perplexed friend.   
  
"My dear man, I can't give my opinion as anything else but I didn't consciously use magic to come to that conclusion. I'm following a hunch. I doubt I'll be able to tell you more until I meet them." he began to hum softly, under his breath as he often did while teasing out a knotty problem.   
  
"I'd forgotten about your habit of singing when you're thinking."   
  
"Was I? Oh, yes. That was one of the ones I wrote for you. I got depressed and I always write when I'm depressed." his manner was very offhand, almost absent-minded but Pellew knew him better than to take that at face value. "I'll sing it for you one day soon, if you like."   
  
"I'm still having trouble believing this is real and not some kind of dream. No, that's not right. I feel like I'm waking up after sleeping for a very long time." Pellew finished the last of his brandy and Jack reached for the bottle and refilled his glass. "And yes, I'd love to hear it."   
  
"Then you shall, Lieutenant Pellew!"   
  
"Thankyou, Captain Hargreaves, Sir!" Pellew laughed.   
  
Jack looked thoughtful. He met Pellew's gaze and smiled. "You aren't my Lieutenant now, though, are you? Not my subordinate at all. We are equals now and I like that so much better. Being away made me realise how important our friendship was and is to me. It made me realise how much I valued you because you were no longer there. Leaving was hard. Staying away, doubly so. Do you realise, Pell, that together we could pass over the world driving everything before us? We were a fine team before but a team of equals is infinitely more powerful." Jack gazed into the fire as if he had more to say but didn't quite know how to phrase it.   
  
"I'd happily become your Lieutenant if it meant I could put to sea with you again." Pellew's voice was very quiet and absolutely sincere.   
  
Jack looked at him, surprised "Do you mean that?" he asked "What about your rank, the Indefatigable and your remarkable Lieutenants?"   
  
Pellew smiled down at him, tugging gently on his friend's cue until Jack's head rolled back far enough for Pellew to meet his eyes.   
  
"My rank means nothing. It was always the work I wanted, not the rank. I must be where I can do most good and, as you so ably pointed out to me only moments ago, that place is with you. I would miss the Indefatigable at first but I'm just as well acquainted with the Merlin and I love her just as much. And as for the lads, we could take them with us..." he looked just a little sly.   
  
"Would they want to come?" Jack looked doubtful.   
  
"In a heartbeat!" Pellew almost laughed. "You have no idea what your reputation is among the fleet. They've been telling tales of your exploits for the last three hundred years! Nobody's sure if you actually exist but the myths still circulate. They use your name like a charm, to bring them luck! You disappear for a few years and then turn up when you're most needed. That hasn't been lost on them. You do wonders for their moral. They all know what you look like and yet when you actually walk among them they don't recognise you. The really amusing thing is that not one of them has come up with a story that's half so outrageous as the truth! Hornblower and Kennedy will want to join us out of curiosity, if nothing else."   
  
"And what about the Admiralty? Will they permit this, do you think?"   
  
"Why not? They may even come up with a job for us and save us finding one of our own. You outrank most of them, anyway. Besides, if you've spent the last decade and more doing what I suspect you've been doing, they owe you."   
  
"True enough. I have to go and see the old buzzards tomorrow, would you care to accompany me?"   
  
"Only if I can watch Hood's face when you stride purposefully onto his axminster! He knows I never really forgave him for sending you away." Pellew finished his third glass of brandy and Jack, of course, refilled it.   
  
"I'm on the high road to getting plastered here, you reprobate! What would Hood say to that, I wonder? He was always warning me about you, you know. Seemed to think you were a bad influence."   
  
"What? Did he think I'd lead you into temptation? What temptation, exactly?" Jack asked inquisitively.   
  
"I'm not absolutely certain but he kept waffling on about impressionable young Lieutenants and how the stories about you were all exaggerated." Pellew shrugged and looked innocent.   
  
Jack laughed. "You, Sir, are wriggling. That innocent look doesn't deceive me for one moment! He was afraid he'd give you ideas and that was why he way so vague. I protest! I was slandered!"   
  
" No, my friend. I didn't let him. I'm afraid I nailed my colours to the mast." Pellew looked down and swirled the brandy in his glass, abandoning subterfuge." I said that if only one in ten of the stories were true I knew where I wanted to be."  
  
It was Jack's turn to be flabbergasted. He looked up at his friend, wide eyed with surprise.  
  
"You really told him that? I must say, that was exceptionally brave of you. For a twenty five year old Lieutenant to take on the Chief Buzzard must have taken great courage...I'm impressed and touched that you would have done such a thing on my behalf."   
  
" I was twenty two, Jack." Pellew smiled. "He was surprised. Nobody could have spoken to him like that for years. When got over his attack of apoplexy he actually commended me for my honesty and my loyalty to my commanding officer. I think he gave up on me after that."  
  
Jack looked thoughtful. "I wonder which of my numerous unconventionalities he was referring to this time."  
  
" I think it was just general unconventionality. I'm not sure society's conventions mean anything to you. You're just too old and you've seen too much. These things change with each passing generation and you have more important things to think about. Why bother with something so ephemeral? You work by intuition and that often flies in the face of convention. You've pretty much abandoned the traditional forms of discipline, for example, and you get better results because you do. In all the time I served with you I rarely saw you order a flogging, that disciplinary mainstay of the fleet. That alone could bother him. Yet your crew always supported you and they always obeyed you without question."  
  
"Maybe..."  
  
"I remember finding you sitting on one of the companionways once comforting one of the powder monkeys who was missing his mother. I don't know another Captain in the fleet who would have done that. You didn't keep a 'proper distance'. Particularly from me." He swirled his drink again.  
  
Jack nodded. "The hard, cold disciplinarian isn't a role I can perform. In the long term it doesn't work for me. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I lead by example. I can't be what I'm not. It's exhausting and I have more important things to do. I know that approach wouldn't work for everyone but in all the time I've been involved with the services nobody has ever let me down. And why would I keep my distance from you? Friendship is a rare and precious thing. Believe me, I've been around long enough to know exactly how rare and how precious. I'll be damned if I'll ignore it when I see it just for the sake of appearances."  
  
"I suspect that our interview with Admiral Lord Hood is going to interesting and most instructive."   
  
*This is part of a poem by William Butler Yeats. Loreena McKennitt set it to music on her album The Mask and The Mirror. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello folks,  
  
I'm reposting this after removing the older versions. It strucck me that the way I'd divided up the story was completely arbitrary and that I'd be better off running them all together as a larger piece. I would, as usual, welcome comments and feedback.  
  
Pip  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Hargreaves! Good to see you man! I was wondering when you'd come to see me. I heard you'd returned. And Captain Pellew. That a surprise!" Pellew raised an eyebrow at Hood's sarcasm.  
  
"I arrived home three days ago, Sir. And yes, I was successful in my mission. The object is once again in my possession. Our possession."  
  
"Do you have it with you?"  
  
"I do indeed."  
  
"Well man, show me!"  
  
Hargreaves reached into his pocket. He knew she hated being displayed like some kind of prize. He begged for her indulgence. As he touched her she sang. He was forgiven. Pellew stepped closer, wondering what on earth they were talking about.  
  
On the desk in front of Hood was a small goblet about six inches tall. It was made of gold, overlaid with silver. The workmanship was exquisite, delicate and unbelievably fine. Pellew watched, disbelieving as the goblet filled with red wine.  
  
"She wants us to drink". Hargreaves reached for the goblet and handed it to Hood, who accepted it a little gingerly and took a few sips. Then he handed it back and Hargreaves passed it to Pellew, who met his eyes. Hargreaves nodded.  
  
"Go on, Pell, she's offering." Pellew drank, smiled, and then handed the goblet back to Hargreaves, who finished the measure.  
  
"I'm going to take her home with me." Hargreaves said quietly.  
  
"Now look here..." Hood blustered.  
  
"No, you look here! She was stolen from Admiralty House. Your security isn't good enough. If she was stolen once it can happen again. She comes home with me. I can protect her with magic. Besides, I'm her custodian and ultimately her welfare and function are my responsibility."   
  
It took Pellew a minute or two to realise what, or rather, who, the goblet was. He'd been drinking from the Sangreal.  
  
Hood steamed in anger. "We need it here. It belongs to all Englishmen, not just you. It's not your personal possession."  
  
"Will you stop referring to her as 'it'. She's as much a person as you are. Arthur appointed me as her guardian and that's the way it's going to stay. In the thirteen hundred years she was with me she was never stolen or mislaid."  
  
Hood grumbled but it was obvious that Hargreaves was determined so he backed down with as much grace as he could.  
  
"Oh, very well..."  
  
Hargreaves smiled. Having won his point he was prepared to be magnanimous.  
  
" I would like to put to sea again. You need every ship you have out there now so I'd like to place the Merlin at your disposal."  
  
"Thankyou, Sir. We certainly need every man we have on deck now. And your skills and your ship would be most welcome. Who do you want as your crew?"  
  
Pellew stepped forward. "I'd like to accompany him as his First Lieutenant, Sir."  
  
"I don't doubt it Captain Pellew, but what of the Indefatigable? And what of your rank? Are you really prepared to be demoted?"  
  
"Lieutenant Bracegirdle is ready for a command, Sir. More than ready. If he were to step into my shoes the Indefatigable could not ask for a finer Captain. As for being demoted, it truly doesn't bother me. I thought you realised that I'd sooner put to sea as Captain Hargreaves' Lieutenant than command my own vessel."  
  
"Your loyalty is commendable, Captain, but it's a huge step you're taking. Consider well."  
  
" I have, Sir. I've not reached this decision lightly. Captain Hargreaves and I have been friends for many years and I would be proud to serve with him even if I must accept demotion in order to do so."  
  
"Very well, Captain Pellew. I don't like it but I won't stop you. But please consider that you'll be denying the Service one of its finest Captains. You'll be wasting you talents, man!"  
  
Pellew looked owlishly at Hood for a moment before replying.  
  
"Sir, you know that Captain Hargreaves command style requires for him to have a First Lieutenant who knows him well and can take command from him at a moment's notice so he can use his less conventional skills. He can't cast magic and command from the quarterdeck at the same time."  
  
"Pell," Hargreaves was troubled. "I really don't like the idea of you losing your captaincy just so you can sail with me. Would you be prepared to share it? I mean have two Captains? We can work that closely. We've done it before."  
  
"Unheard of! Do you really think that's possible?" Hood grumbled, he'd always been hazy on the nature of Jack's abilities and how they fitted in with his style of command.  
  
"Of course it is! As I said we've worked that closely before. God! Pell, do you remember that last assignment? We were finishing each other's thoughts by the end of that one. Mind you, I suspect that it would really only work where it's possible to communicate telepathically."  
  
Hood gave up. He realised that even if Hargreaves was a loose cannon he was also one of their most powerful weapons. The Merlin was notorious. He was well aware that she'd sent three French frigates to the bottom, each of them twice her size and firepower during her last mission. Part of the reason for her success was the relationship between Hargreaves and Pellew. He might not like it but it was in Britain's best interests to have them working together.  
  
"I suppose you'll want to take your proteges with you?"  
  
"Indeed, Sir."  
  
"I doubt Lieutenant Bracegirdle will thank you for that but that's your problem. Do you really want to expose those fine young officers to Captain Hargreaves' unconventional approach to command?"   
  
Pellew went white with rage. "I was exposed to it, Sir," He almost spat the words at Hood, his face set and his eyes burning "and I consider that I'm a better commander because I was."  
  
Hargreaves watched appreciatively. Pellew really was magnificent when he was angry.  
  
"It's nothing if not inventive." Hood sniffed superciliously. "Especially your attitude to disciplinary matters." He rounded on Hargreaves who regarded him coolly, unintimidated.   
  
"I find it difficult, Sir, to maintain an atmosphere where my crew will work together and defend one another to the death if I can't create a sense of trust in myself and one another. Flogging them is counterproductive. I don't punish them for honest mistakes or misunderstandings. If they give me their best they have nothing to fear from me. What I don't tolerate is dereliction of duty or the abuse of power. "  
  
"That's all very well," Hood huffled "but the Service runs on the respect the men have for their leaders. How do you instil respect if you don't punish them for their misdeeds?"  
  
Hargreaves smiled sweetly. "I usually find that my reputation and abilities are usually enough to instil considerable respect."  
  
"It's difficult to be disrespectful of a Captain who can call the wind by its name and expect it to do his bidding!" Pellew was still bristling. "From my experience the first time the men see him in action they fall into line quite happily."  
  
Hood almost sneered. "Well, it's obvious he has you on a string, Pellew, never mind his crew!"  
  
Pellew drew himself up to his full six foot two inches and looked down his nose at Hood. "Are you deliberately trying to be insulting, Sir?"  
  
"If the cap fits, Captain Pellew..."  
  
"I don't intend to stand here and listen to this!" Pellew snarled, turned on his heel and stalked from Hood's office.  
  
Hargreaves and Hood looked at one another with considerable surprise. Then Hargreaves laughed.  
  
"Well, I didn't expect that, did you?"   
  
"You see were your attitudes lead? Insubordination, Sir! Insubordination!"  
  
"I'd forgotten he could be so passionate. Hmmm..." Jack mused.   
  
"Well, go after him, man, before he starts abusing my staff!"  
  
For once in his life Hargreaves did as he was told. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3   
  
Hargreaves and Pellew made sure they arrived early at White's. They wanted the chance to talk and to get comfortable before Hornblower and Kennedy arrived. Pellew had sent a message to the Kennedy town house where both lads were staying while on leave. The family weren't in residence and Horatio and Archie had the place to themselves. Except for the staff. Horatio was still getting used to having large numbers of servants around.   
  
Hornblower and Kennedy had arrived home from their shopping expedition mid afternoon. They'd visited the tailor (both were in need of new uniforms, shirts and civilian clothing), every bookshop in town and dropped in at the theatre to pick up tickets to a production of Twelfth Night that they'd planned on seeing the following night then they'd needed to start an account to manage the rest of their prize money. Then it had started to rain and they were both soaked to the skin by the time they arrived home.   
  
"Arch," Horatio murmured, holding Pellew's letter out to his friend. "I have no idea what this is about. It's from Captain Pellew inviting us both out to dinner at White's. He says he's bringing someone with him. Someone he wants us to meet." He looked a little perplexed. The letter had been friendly and informal, certainly not the summons that Horatio would have expected. Pellew seemed almost mellow. How very odd. He watched as his friend read the note, his eyebrows arching and his blue eyes widening in surprise.   
  
"Well, he sounds relaxed. I think he's up to something, 'Ratio. His tone's almost playful. Not like his usual severe manner at all. And he's signed himself Edward. I wonder who his friend is. It's for tonight as well. Most unexpected." Archie shrugged "We really can't stand him up, you know."   
  
"Of course not." Horatio replied, frowning and inquisitive. "Besides, I think you're right, he's up to something and I want to know what it is."   
  
The dining room was warm and comfortable and the wine was excellent. Pellew felt happier than he had in many years. Jack was on form, intelligent, witty and sweet natured. Neither of them were in uniform and Pellew could feel himself relaxing under Jack's attention. He was looking forward to introducing his remarkable Lieutenants to his even more remarkable companion. He had no idea how this situation would play out but he was quite happy to let matters run their course. Jack smiled and poured more wine. His friend seemed ten years younger and was obviously enjoying himself. That pleased Jack. Pell was a gem and Jack had treated him badly. He knew that was true even though Pell had so generously forgiven him. He had dressed with great care, partly because he'd wanted Pell to know he was appreciated but also because he wanted to create a particular impression. Pell had told him as they left that he looked no more than twenty five and that pleased him because that was his intention. His blonde hair was confined at the nape of his neck by a velvet ribbon, his dark blue coat was laced with silver and his cravat and the cuffs of his shirt foamed with lace. He wore a sapphire pin in his cravat and another sapphire in his left ear. He looked like an extremely pretty young dandy. He was giving a very fair impression of one in his conversation, too, much to his friend's amusement. It gave him great pleasure to hear Pellew laugh and decided he wanted to hear it as much as possible. He gave Pellew a sidelong look and decided that that crimson coat became him very well and the cream coloured satin of his shirt became him better still.   
  
His attention was caught by a pair of young naval officers who had just entered the dining room. He raised an eyebrow in Pell's direction. Pell nodded, smiled and gestured the pair over. They were an impressive pair. The taller one had gentle, diffident manner that was very endearing. He was attractive, too, with dark, curly hair, warm brown eyes and a generous mouth. Jack also admired the loose-limbed grace with which he moved. The other was smaller and just as attractive but in a different way. His eyes were very bright and a clear sky blue, his nose was short and slightly turned up and his hair was a shaggy, tawny mane with the back confined to a cue. He seemed full of energy, life and youthful enthusiasm. Both were delightful, in their different styles.   
  
Then, as a matter of policy he unfocussed his eyes and looked at their auras. What he saw amazed him. The colours were normal enough. The tall one, he assumed that was Hornblower. Bright yellow: an intellectual, focussed and capable. Dark blue: Intuitive and flexible. A deep rose pink: Kind hearted and compassionate. A clear, strong red suggested great courage An interesting set of colours. Cool headed, intellectual, intuitive, courageous and compassionate. But he saw two other things, both astonishing. In the outer layers of his aura there was a swirling vortex of multiple colours, pale and always in motion. There was also a huge amount of magic. This lad was a wizard. To judge from those swirling colours he was a probability mage. He understood the nature of chance and more than that he'd somehow learned to manipulate it. He was self-trained. With all his experience Jack had never seen anything quite like this. Luck magic was difficult, dangerous and needed to be taught with the utmost care. If badly taught the mage could suck up the luck of everyone in his vicinity into those swirling colours, augmenting his own but depleting everyone else's. This was particularly dangerous on a warship. Hornblower obviously, somehow, managed to get control of it and from very early on. He'd served on the Indefatigable for years and brought her luck, rather than disaster. Kennedy, his closest friend, was obviously hale and whole. I was always the wizard's closest friends who died first. Astonishing!   
  
The second thing he noticed was the way Hornblower's aura reached for Kennedy's. They merged and swirled through one another. That wasn't common, either. It was usually seen only in wizards who were lifelong partners. No wonder they were inseparable! It also meant that Kennedy...as he looked at Kennedy he was assaulted by the depth and extent of the physical and emotional pain in the youth's aura. Someone had hurt him, severely and repeatedly over a long period of time. He needed to look into this as soon as possible. That kind of pain was crippling and dangerous. It could find expression in all kinds of bizarre ways. He turned his attention to the young man's colours. A strong pink that shaded to red. Fierce compassion and the will to fight, empathy with those who were wounded and the desire to put right the damage. Green, life itself, the same colour as fresh, young leaves. It suggested joi de vivre, sheer pleasure in being alive. How many times had he almost lost that life? Jack knew that kind of pain to be transformative. He looked closer so as to be able to trace the path of that transformation. White light shot through the boy's aura. So that was it. A healer, and of the most powerful kind: one who has suffered and works with those most powerful of tools, empathy and compassion. God! he hadn't seen anything like that in years. If Hornblower had helped him through those dark and painful times that would explain the conjoined auras. Had Pell mentioned that the lad had fits? It explained that, too. That lad was deserving of great respect. Jack hoped that he received it.  
  
He focussed his eyes as they approached and smiled dazzlingly in greeting as Pell introduced them by name, but not rank. That would come later, privately, when they would have a chance to talk.  
  
Archie wasn't sure what to make of this. He wasn't sure what he had expected but it hadn't been this. The Captain was out of uniform. That was a shock in itself. He was smiling and that was another. He could count on the fingers of one hand the times he'd seen Pellew smile over the five years Archie had spent under his command. He also seemed very much at his ease, as if a long-standing problem had just been solved. Then there was that extraordinary young man at his side. He looked no older than himself and Horatio. His features were delicate, almost feminine, his eyes dark and hair very blonde. He poured wine for them all with slender, elegant hands that were steady as a rock. Archie glanced at Horatio, seeing his own confusion mirrored in his friend's eyes.  
  
"Captain Pellew has told me a good deal about you, all of it good." The young man smiled at them. "I'm very happy to meet you both."  
  
Horatio stammered, "Captain Pellew is very kind, Sir."  
  
" He is," replied Jack, gracefully "but I've also noticed that he's very honest. He would not have said it unless it was true." Jack smiled at the Captain, his manner very familiar, as if they'd been close friends all their lives.  
  
How on Earth had this man and Captain Pellew met? What did they have in common? Were they kin? He realised how little they actually knew about their Captain. Pellew rarely spoke of his family. Archie knew that he wasn't married but that was about the extent of his knowledge. Was that unusual? Not particularly. He never spoke of his own background to anyone but Horatio. In fact he usually went to great lengths to keep his own aristocratic background unknown to his shipmates.  
  
"So, are you a naval man, Sir?" Archie asked, trying to decide how to speak to him. A context would make that a great deal easier.  
  
"I am indeed! But please, call me Jack." That was it then. He'd served under Pellew on an earlier command. He wondered what rank the boy had achieved. His shipmates must have given him a difficult time with a face like that. Archie knew from personal experience what fate a lad that pretty could expect.  
  
Jack started slightly as the white energy hit him and seeped into his soul. Well, that was unexpected. He gave Archie a steady look, acknowledging his gift. Obviously Archie had empathised with him and released the energy without realising it. This was getting more and more interesting!  
  
"I served with Edward many years ago. I've been away over the last few years and I just returned so we were able to catch up." Edward. Good God! How long had it been since he'd called his friend by his name rather than the affectionate nickname with which he usually addressed him. It felt very odd and by no means pleasant. It felt like he was placing a distance between them. A distance that was most unwelcome.  
  
Jack could see the questions in both their eyes and wanted to confide in them but he knew that this was the wrong place and time. they couldn't risk being overheard. They would get the whole story but not now.  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, Jack, but you look far to young to have served with Captain Pellew 'many years ago'." Archie grinned. Pellew choked on his wine.  
  
Jack laughed. "Oh, dear. My unfortunate appearance. It covers me with constant chagrin! Rest assured, Lieutenant Kennedy, I'm a great deal older than I look!"  
  
Jack caught Pellew's eye and looked severe as his friend grinned at him wickedly and poured more wine.  
  
Horatio was confused. His Captain was behaving very oddly and Jack was obviously up to something. He saw Pellew's look and started to wonder exactly what was going on. He looked at Pellew with doubt in his eyes, hoping for an explanation.  
  
Pellew finally spoke. "Gentlemen, we have a proposition to put to you but we can't do it here. If you will, as soon as we've eaten we'll adjourn to Jack's house and we will tell you everything and then you can make a decision. But this I will tell you now: I am leaving the Indefatigable. You may stay with her or come with me."  
  
Both lads looked at one another, stunned. "Why Sir? Why are you leaving the Indy?" asked Horatio.  
  
"Because I've been offered the chance to put to sea again with a very old and dear friend. I will go but I wanted to give you the opportunity to come with me."  
  
" Why us, Sir?" Archie's voice was quiet.  
  
Pellew looked at him, exasperated. "Why do you think, boy? Because you two are the best I have. The best I've seen in a very long time."  
  
"God, Pell!" Jack expostulated "You'll scare the poor lad to death snarling at him that way!" he winked at Archie. "I don't know where you learnt that tactic, my friend. It's not as if you learned it from me! I never shout. Well, hardly ever." he amended with a sly look at Pellew from under lowered eyelashes.  
  
"You, Sir, are incorrigible!" He swung around to face Jack, laughing. "Are you telling me how to treat my own crew?"  
  
"Well, naturally. I've been at this a lot longer than you have..."  
  
"I'll thank you to mind your own business, Sir." Pellew blustered unconvincingly, the laugh still quivering in his voice and his eyes very bright.  
  
"But I am, Pell..." Jack looked at him, limpidly. Pellew looked into those eyes and caved. He couldn't maintain even the pretence of being angry. He smiled.  
  
"I know." Pellew replied quietly, acknowledging the point. He enjoyed this kind of banter and few of his crew were brave enough to return it. Those who were able had other reasons for not indulging him. But Jack revelled in it and gave as good as he got. He used to say that it helped him to stay sharp. Pellew sipped his wine and watched how the young Lieutenants had reacted. Kennedy had obviously enjoyed it. His eyes glittered and he was smiling, much more at his ease.   
  
Hornblower looked a little perplexed, even embarrassed, as if he'd caught them being childish and didn't know whether to ignore it or paper over the apparent breech. Kennedy caught his eye and smiled, everything was all right. It was just a game.   
  
Horatio was more confused than ever. Jack and the Captain were obviously much closer than he'd thought. Friends rather than merely shipmates. Close friends, as well. Most people found Captain Pellew intimidating but Jack had taken him on without hesitation. What's more he'd won. Pellew had backed down. Gracefully. There was something else that bothered him, too. They'd been talking as if Jack had trained Pellew rather than vice versa. Obviously that wasn't possible even if Jack was 'a great deal older than he looked.'  
  
The meal was pleasant enough with Jack and Archie competing for the title of 'life and soul of the party'. They were laughing and teasing one another in no time at all, each crack being more outrageous than the one before. Pellew laughed until his sides ached. Hornblower watched the three of them, occasionally choking on his wine. He obviously enjoyed the conversation but jokes and storytelling were not his strong points. Eventually he leaned across to Pellew, who was sitting next to him.  
  
"It would appear that Archie's met his match." He smiled.  
  
"I can see that life is unlikely to be dull with both of them around." He met Horatio's eyes, trying to read the answer to his question in their dark brown depths.  
  
Hornblower smiled. "I'm not sure what you and Jack have cooked up, Sir, but if you haven't realised by now that both Archie and I would follow you anywhere then you're not nearly as astute as I thought you were." Rumbled. How embarrassing. Pellew's eyes dropped, a little embarrassed by Hornblower's plain speaking.  
  
"Now what have I said to upset you, Sir?" Hornblower looked perplexed. "I simply answered the question you couldn't ask."  
  
"And you, Horatio, are just as astute as I thought you were." Horatio blinked, surprised, at Pellew's use of his personal name. Then he smiled at the complement, lowering his head submissively. Pellew smiled at him affectionately. He caught Jack's eye and nodded almost imperceptibly.   
  
He felt Jack's voice in his head. *Pell, do you have any idea what you have here? Where did you find them, man? They are both wizards. *  
  
Pellew looked at him, astonished. *Are you certain? Who trained them? *  
  
*Nobody. You'd know if you had a wizard on board who was powerful enough to teach. Archie's a natural healer. Suffering trained him. He's been through horrors that would easily have broken a lesser man. I have great respect for him. And Horatio has the rarest and most dangerous of gifts. He plays games with luck and probability. *  
  
*Good God! You mean they were here under my nose the entire time and I didn't recognise what there were? *   
  
*Why would you, Pell? You couldn't see their auras and the things they've done could have been done without magic. Such things do happen. Occasionally. *  
  
Pellew smiled and downed the rest of his glass. * I still think I must be the most unobservant Captain in the fleet! I can't even plead ignorance. I've seem magic before, I knew it existed and still I didn't notice. *  
  
*My friend, you are not a wizard. Only a wizard could have known for certain. The lads aren't aware of what they are, why should you be? What bothers me most is that probability magic is notoriously dangerous and Horatio hasn't been trained to use it properly. The results could have been horrific and yet they weren't. He's obviously an extraordinary lad. * He refilled all their glasses. *Archie hasn't even used his skills yet. Those will surface next time someone he cares for is injured. They'll surface but they won't be controlled. He'll be running on love and compassion. Admirable in themselves but exhausting in the long term. * He smiled at his friend, absolving him. *Not your fault, Pell. *  
  
*So what do we need to do? *  
  
*We have to train them. Hornblower is an unexploded bomb until he learns to control his ability. You see, an untrained luck mage will absorb the luck of everyone around him. Good for him but bad for his friends, companions and shipmates. I'm surprised you and Archie are still alive. He takes the luck from those he loves first because they are more vulnerable, more open to him. I'm not saying this is ever deliberate but he must be trained for everyone's sake. Archie will start manifesting his abilities soon and there are a great many things he needs to learn or he'll burn out. He will actually spend his soul in order to heal those around him and he needs to learn when to stop and what to do to protect himself from the demands of others and his own conscience. *  
  
*What now? *  
  
*We get them home and we recruit them. We must convince them. *  
  
*Is Tatiana still around? * Pellew grinned mischievously.  
  
*Indeed she is. * Jack looked sly.  
  
*Still in uniform? *  
  
*Whenever the inclination takes her. *  
  
*Good. *  
  
*Robert? *  
  
*Indubitably. * Jack looked innocent.  
  
*Well, what are we waiting for? * 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
Hargreaves' house was a strange place. He liked to souvenir and every major event in his long life was in some way represented in his dwelling. The house itself was huge, the walls covered in paintings and hangings, the floors with Indian and Persian rugs of the highest quality. Statues stood on tables, in corners, on landings. There were bookcases everywhere, filled with priceless, beautiful books, incunabula, manuscripts and scrolls. Occult objects lay in disarray on tables and shelves along with strange things that Hornblower and Kennedy couldn't even identify. On every door there were protective symbols and runes painted in silver. Plants of all descriptions ran rampant across tables, up walls, along windowsills and tumbled down staircases.   
  
Everything was well maintained, polished, dusted, watered and cared for. Jack led them to the library on the first floor up an elegant staircase. The room was filled with bookcases from floor to ceiling, a large table ran down the middle of the room and there were comfortable winged chairs before the fire. Along the northern wall of the room stood an altar and a desk. Above the desk was a painting, a full length and very beautiful portrait of a much younger Pellew, along with several equally beautiful preliminary sketches. Wine and coffee stood on the table as well as cheeses and fruit.   
  
A young man sat very much at his ease in one of the chairs reading from an ancient, leather bound book. He was dressed in a naval uniform of immaculate cut. His eyes were of a profound grey, his features delicate and his dark hair braided into a neat, silky cue. He wore a signet ring of silver on the third finger of his left hand which had a pentacle design worked in a shining green stone. The lad shot to his feet as they entered the room and it became apparent that the lad was, in fact, a lass. The jacket had been cleverly tailored to conceal her curves but those long and extremely shapely legs were undoubtedly feminine. She grinned mischievously at Hargreaves and then turned to Pellew.  
  
"Pell!" her voice was deep for a woman and very musical. "It's so good to see you again!" She crossed the floor in four swift strides and flung herself into his arms. He laughed and returned her embrace with enthusiasm. She looked up at him. "I wanted to speak to you last night but I supposed that you and Jack had a great deal to talk about so I made myself scarce." She had a slight and very pleasant Russian accent.  
  
"Ah, Lieutenant Markarova! It's been far too long! Yes, Jack and I did, indeed, have a great deal to discuss but that doesn't mean that your company would have been in any way unwelcome!" Hargreaves smiled, such a politic answer. Pell had improved with experience. Tatiana looked gratified by his response.  
  
Pellew smiled, charmed by her, as always. "I really should introduce you to my Lieutenants, Tati. This is Archie Kennedy..." Kennedy grinned, stepped forward and shook her hand. Tatiana returned the grin in kind. "And this is Horatio Hornblower." Horatio looked painfully shy and she took pity on him, smiling sweetly but not sweetly enough to put him out of countenance. "I'm p-pleased to meet you..." he murmured "and I to meet you, Lieutenant Hornblower." she replied. Pellew smiled again noticing her gentleness with the shy Hornblower. Exactly as he would have expected from her. "This is Lieutenant Tatiana Markarova. Jack's Aid de Camp."  
  
Now this was very odd indeed. Kennedy really didn't know how to interpret that little exchange. Who the hell were these people and why had that young boy/girl just greeted his reserved Captain with an embrace that made it clear that they were old and intimate friends? She was an attractive creature, androgynous and powerful with it. He liked the strong, supple line of her neck and the bounce in her step, as if she'd never been tired in her life. He liked the way her cue hung almost to her waist and swung when she moved.  
  
Was she truly Navy or was that some kind of polite fiction to accommodate her into the command structure? He looked across at Horatio who had watched the little spectacle with a disbelieving expression, stammering when they were introduced. She'd smiled gently at him and he'd relaxed a little. She was certainly very smooth.  
  
Tatiana smiled, excused herself, and went and poured wine into the crystal goblets that stood on the table. It glittered as it splashed into the glasses. Hargreaves invited them to sit before the fire as Tatiana handed them their glasses. The wine was good, crisp, sweet and cold. She poked the fire, causing it to leap in the fireplace, and then settled herself at Hargreaves' feet. He tugged at her cue, affectionately, and smiled down at her.   
  
A small cat with long, soft, grey, black and white fur and a very long tail jumped onto Kennedy's knee. He smiled, for it was a pretty, friendly animal and it began to purr softly. Kennedy stroked the creature gently, not wanting to frighten it away. It looked up at him with deep blue eyes that glittered with intelligence.  
  
"So, now we can begin?" Hargreaves asked quietly, glancing at Pell, who nodded. Tatiana looked up at him expectantly.  
  
"First I suppose I'd better let you know who I am. I was Myrddin Emrys. Then I was Merlin. Now I'm known as John James Hargreaves, Jack to my friends. Tatiana is my allied spirit." He rested his hand on her head. " My familiar, if you will. And Hrriss, sitting on your knee, Archie, is my fetch. " Hrriss stood on his hind legs, resting his forepaws against Archie's chest and nibbled the end of his nose. Kennedy smiled and tickled Hrriss behind his ears. He wasn't certain what a fetch was but Hrriss was both very charming and very friendly, so he didn't mind waiting around to find out.  
  
Hargreaves continued, "Captain Pellew and I are friends of long standing. He was my Lieutenant many years ago before I was pulled from my command by Military Intelligence. I've been away for fifteen years and returned home three days ago, my quest completed." He looked at them steadily. This was not a joke and he had to persuade them that he was serious. He went on before they could interrupt.  
  
" When we went to Admiralty House this morning Admiral Hood accepted my offer to take the Merlin out to aid the fleet. I need a crew. Captain Pellew has kindly offered to act as my Co-captain. He has the very highest opinion of both of you and suggested that I offer you the positions of First and Second Lieutenants."  
  
Hornblower looked at him in open disbelief. Hargreaves smiled. " Mr Hornblower, is it my bald statement as to my identity or my offering you the position of First Lieutenant that has you filled with such disbelief?"  
  
" I don't mean to be rude sir but please understand that your identity is rather a large pill to swallow." the smile on his face robbed Hornblower's words of their sting.  
  
"I see I'll need to provide you with some evidence, Mr Hornblower. Hrriss, please change form for us."  
  
Hrriss jumped from Kennedy's knee and as he did so he morphed, grew and changed shape. By the time he landed he was a singularly beautiful snow leopard. He wreathed himself around three times and then went and sat before Horatio. He began to purr deep in his chest and rested one paw on Hornblower's knee.   
  
Suddenly Hornblower was aware of a strange, smoky voice in his head.  
  
*Yes, Horatio. It's me. Believe. All of this is real. Not some trick with smoke and mirrors. * Hrriss looked into Hornblower's eyes and didn't blink. Horatio shook his head as if he was trying to clear it but the voice was still there, the leopard still purred and Horatio sat stunned and unable to think. His entire worldview had just been upended and nothing made sense. Hrriss reached up and gently laid one velvet paw against Horatio's cheek. Dimly, he was aware of Archie's hand covering his wrist.  
  
Archie was well aware that Hrriss was not what he appeared to be. He'd been aware of intelligence in those deep blue eyes and had a strong impression that Hrriss had been flirting with him. He was more than a little startled but he was far more concerned with the shock and disorientation he knew Horatio must be feeling. He stood, moved across to his friend's chair and rested both his hands on his shoulders. The feeling of confusion and disorientation became stronger as he made physical contact with Horatio. He calmed himself and in so doing seemed to calm Horatio, too. He was only aware that Horatio had been trembling when he stopped.  
  
Hrriss, having made his point, shrunk to house cat size again and rubbed against Horatio's ankles.  
  
Neither Hargreaves nor Pellew spoke. They simply waited for Kennedy and Hornblower to assimilate the new evidence.  
  
"I don't understand. How is this possible?" Hornblower asked, his eyes like saucers. He gazed at Pellew asking for reassurance. Kennedy radiated concern but also a sense of wonder, as if he was beginning to accept and understand.   
  
"There's more in our world than we are equipped to see, Horatio. To spirits like Hrriss and Tatiana bodies are mutable. They're nothing more than a means of experiencing the world and can be changed and adjusted at will provided they have the energy to do so." Pellew searched for words, his intuition telling him that the lads would accept the information more easily if it came from him rather than Jack. "Jack is immensely powerful and provides energy to his spirits whenever they ask for it."   
  
'Horatio?" said Pellew, quietly. "Do you need another demonstration?"  
  
Hornblower looked back at him with a strange, shattered look in his eyes. His world- view was crumbling around him and he hadn't accepted the new one yet. Pellew glanced at Hargreaves and nodded. Hargreaves rose from his chair.  
  
"Come over here, gentlemen." Hargreaves walked over to the long table in the middle of the room. On it stood a hoya vine. Its leaves were broad and glossy; it's slender tendrils, delicate and fine. The wizard drew one elegant finger along the edge of the largest leaf and the plant started to grow before their eyes, tendrils reached out to touch his caressing fingers. Then it started to flower, it's sweet fragrance spreading through the room. He smiled affectionately at the vine, as if it was an old and trusted friend. He lifted his eyes to meet Pellew's across the table and the expression remained.  
  
Hornblower still looked like someone had kicked his feet out from under him. Kennedy's arm snaked about his friend again, understanding how difficult this was for Horatio to accept. Jack watched with delight as Archie's light, the visible expression of his compassion engulfed Horatio and the lad started to relax.  
  
"I don't know what to say, what to believe..." Horatio said with considerable anguish in his voice. "My mind tells me such things don't happen and yet the evidence is there, right before my eyes. You accept it, Sir," He looked at Pellew, hoping he'd explain "and, Archie, you look like the last piece of a puzzle that's been bothering you for years has finally fallen into place."  
  
"We're offering you something that is given to very few, Horatio. You know the stories, the myths about Jack. They are true. Most of 'em, anyway." Pellew smiled across the table at his friend. "Still not convinced?" Horatio looked at him in confusion. "Give me your sword, Horatio." The Captain's voice was very quiet. Horatio drew his sword and handed it hilt first to Pellew, who drew the blade across his palm, leaving a deep gash that exposed bones and tendons. He made no sound and didn't even flinch. Then he laid the bloodied blade in the table. Hargreaves had come to his side and took Pellew's injured hand in both of his own, leaving the palm uncovered so that Hornblower and Kennedy could see the wound clearly.  
  
"Come here, both of you, and convince yourselves that this wound is real. Touch it if you must. There must be no doubt in your minds." said Pellew. Gingerly, Hornblower touched the wound. Kennedy simply watched. When Horatio was convinced Hargreaves took Pellew's hand between his own again and slowly the wound began to heal. It started at the bottom of the wound, the bones became covered as the muscles and ligaments were reconstructed. The flesh melded together again and the skin knitted until all that was left of the wound was a quickly vanishing white scar and the blood drying on the skin.  
  
Kennedy watched, amazed at first, but with a strange feeling of deja vous. It was as if he'd dreamt this as a child, or heard it in a story at his mother's knee. His mind reached for details but couldn't find them. Suddenly he became aware of Hrriss rubbing against his legs and without thinking he picked the little animal up. Hrriss clambered from arms to shoulder and sat there, purring in Archie's ear. It really did look like he'd been adopted.   
  
Hargreaves gestured for them to take their seats again.  
  
Jack caught a glimpse of Hrriss and realised that his mischievous fetch was attempting to seduce Archie. He smiled. That damned cat could get away with anything and Hrriss had always liked healers. Now the wretched animal was nibbling the boy's ear. It really was nauseating! Jack watched as Archie moved closer to Horatio, slipping an arm about his friend, supporting him. It was lovely to watch them. Each thought of the other first and they supported one another without even being aware of it. That told any but the most casual observer a great deal about them. He was sure Pellew had seen it because he and Pellew reacted the same way. He gave his friend a sidelong glance, raising one eyebrow slightly.  
  
Horatio still felt dazed but there could be no denying what he'd seen and he was far to honest to prevaricate. "I don't understand how you did that, Jack, but I accept that you did. And that you are who you say you are."  
  
"You don't need to understand, at least, not now. You'll understand soon enough if you choose to join us."  
  
"Do you chose to join us?" Pellew didn't want them to feel forced into this. Jack was a very dominant person and was sometimes a little too eager to believe that people were prepared to fall in with his plans. He knew it wasn't deliberate, just that Jack was used to having his own way and a bag to put it in.  
  
Kennedy and Hornblower looked at one another and Kennedy nodded at his friend.  
  
"Yes, we both want to be involved in this. It's far to great an adventure to pass up. It was never in doubt, really." Hornblower tried to sound offhand and failed miserably.  
  
"Thankyou." Hargreaves smiled "Welcome aboard!" He looked sidelong at Pellew.  
  
"What of the other matter?" Pellew asked, a little sharply. "The things you saw, earlier. Much better to give them the whole story."  
  
Hargreaves looked down at his boots for a moment and then looked back at the expectant Lieutenants.  
  
"Very well, you're right, Pell. Gentlemen, when I first saw you this evening I took the liberty of reading your auras. Not, I would hasten to add, because I didn't trust you, but because it is my policy to do so whenever I meet a person unknown to me. It's a practice that has saved my life on many occasions. What I saw startled me. No, that would be the understatement of the century. I was shocked. Both of you are wizards. Horatio, you have a great facility with luck and probability magic. You've even managed to train yourself in the basics of its use. I'm very impressed. Untrained luck wizards are a danger to those around them but you've brought them good luck and those you love still stand at your side. Pell tells me that you play cards very well. I think that's how you trained yourself."   
  
Hornblower looked sceptical. "Think about it, man." Hargreaves leaned forward, his eyes intense. "How many times have you cheated Death? She doesn't let go of a person easily. What's more you've done it for the Indefatigable and her entire crew. How many times have you played the odds and come out of an impossible situation with your skin and those of your companions, more or less, intact? Think on it, Horatio, such things to not happen without help."   
  
"That debacle at Musillac..." Hornblower looked at his boots, unable to meet the eyes of his comrades.  
  
"From what Pell has told me of that particular incident, it was bungled by your superiors and you were blameless. Pell wasn't expecting any of you to survive and yet you only lost six. That was luck magic teamed with your native intelligence and cunning. Be proud; you have the right to be."  
  
"I think you must be mistaken, Jack, but I'm prepared to accept it as a working hypothesis. I'm not close minded, I'm willing to be convinced."  
  
"Thankyou for that vote of confidence, Mr Hornblower!" Jack was amused. He smiled and turned to Kennedy.  
  
"Archie, I know that you must have had an appallingly difficult childhood and youth. I can see the pain in your aura. I'm not going to ask for details but I believe I can guess. That suffering has given you a deep empathy with others who suffer as you did. That, in turn, has developed into a gift of healing. At the moment it's undeveloped because you've not had the confidence to believe you can help but soon it will begin to manifest. Although you won't believe me yet, you are one of the strongest, bravest people I've ever met. You don't think of yourself that way but the people around you do. Pell told me that you want back to prison in Spain after having spent years in captivity. I can hardly imagine what you'd experienced there already and yet you went back. You went to honour Horatio's word and because you didn't want him to have to go back alone. That, in my book, was an act of great courage, loyalty and mind-boggling self sacrifice. I was very impressed when I heard the story. Few people have the good fortune to encounter such a friend. These are all elements that go into a truly great healing ability. Moreover Hrriss had taken a liking to you and he usually behaves that way around healers."  
  
"Thank God!" Hornblower expostulated, his confusion forgotten for the moment." I've been telling him that for years but he doesn't believe me." he turned to Archie and poked him in the chest for added emphasis. "Believe it. It's true!"  
  
As if to add further emphasis Hrriss began to nibble the healer's ear gently. Archie giggled; Hrriss' whiskers tickled him. Then he looked back at Hargreaves, his eyes wide with wonder. He wasn't used to this, wasn't used to being built up this way and treated with this kind of respect. Jack admired him! It was clear both in his words and his eyes. And Horatio...thinking back he remembered Horatio telling him this but he'd just put it down to Horatio's generosity, unable to take his friend's words at face value.  
  
"So, what happens now?" Archie smiled, his own healing begun.  
  
"Join us. Allow me to teach you."  
  
Hrriss jumped back onto Archie's knee and started, very methodically, to undo the buttons on his waistcoat. Archie ran a gentle hand down Hrriss' back and the cat began to purr. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Young Henry Wellard was in serious trouble. He'd been in the Navy since he was twelve. On his first ship, the Cassiopeia, he'd been happy, confident and had done his duty to his own and everyone else's satisfaction. How had he gotten himself into this situation? Had he gotten himself into it or would it have happened to any young officer in his position? Probably the latter. The Captain was 'ill', the whole crew knew that but nobody had done anything about it. How does one tell the Admiralty that one of their greatest heroes was succumbing to madness and addiction? The officers were terrified and the crew were drunk most of the time. Captain Sawyer bought their loyalty with extra privileges, alcohol being the most obvious. All the Middies had been granted shore leave but Sawyer couldn't leave it alone shouting "I hope you never return, you young viper!" Wellard had hung his head, knowing that anything Sawyer considered an impertinence would be taken out of Wellard's hide at a later date.   
  
Further proof of his guilt where Sawyer was concerned.   
  
He stumbled over the uneven pavement. It was raining hard and that made his misery complete. The stripes on his back pained him but he wasn't about to take Dr Clive's laudanum. It was that damned stuff that was the root cause of this entire situation and he wasn't about to place himself in its grip. He tripped and fell headlong into the gutter, soaking his uniform and grazing his elbows. God! could the night get any worse?   
  
It was then that he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and another raising him to his feet. He looked up and saw two young officers, older than himself but no older than twenty-two or twenty-three. There was kindness and concern in both their eyes. He flinched as the shorter, blonde one rested a steadying hand between his shoulder blades.   
  
"Are you all right, is something the matter with your back?" The voice was as gentle as the hand. "Come, lad, lets get you out of the rain. Horatio, take his other arm..."   
  
Between them they managed to get Wellard to a warm, dry tavern, divested him of the sodden cloak and jacket and sat him close to a warm fire.   
  
"You seem very miserable Mr... ?"   
  
"Wellard." He wanted to trust them but he was afraid to. If the Captain found out...   
  
"I'm Archie Kennedy and this is Horatio Hornblower."   
  
"And what appears to be the problem, Mr Wellard?"   
  
Wellard looked into the fire, his jaw working.   
  
Suddenly he resolved to tell them everything and ask for advice.   
  
"You'll probably feel that what I'm about to say is inappropriate but I swear if I don't tell someone outside the situation I shall go mad." He looked at them afraid but resolved. "It's about our captain. He's ill and he gets sicker by the day." Wellard rubbed his hand across his eyes. "His behaviour is becoming more and more...erratic...and he's taking far too much laudanum. I know it's unbecoming to talk this way about one's Captain but I'm seriously afraid we're heading for disaster. The whole crew is splintered. The officers don't trust the captain, one another or the crew. And the crew...they're habitually drunk by midday and a danger to themselves and everyone else. God alone knows what would happen if we had to go into battle." Wellard drank deeply, hoping it would make this easier. The felt as if he was betraying his Captain and crew but he needed help and could think of no other way of getting it. Hornblower and Kennedy watched him sympathetically.   
  
"For some reason, I don't know why, his ill will towards his officers has focused on me. He seems to think that I'm conspiring against him with person or persons unknown to make a fool of him or foment mutiny. He sees my every action as confirming this and no matter what I do I get into trouble. Then he started having me beaten. At first I could cope. Boys are beaten every day, are they not, and are not one wit the worse for it? But it got to the point where one set of stripes hadn't had time to scab over before another set was laid atop it. And over the last week or so he started having me flogged. I'm afraid this will go on and on until he kills me. I can see no way out. The worst of it is that if I were to tell you the name of my Captain you would never believe me."   
  
He raised hopeless eyes to his companions. They looked at one another and seemed to make some kind of decision.   
  
"You'd be surprised what we'd believe, Mr Wellard." Kennedy's voice was low so as not to attract attention. These things happen from time to time and the reputation of the Captain is such that such stories are not believed. And I really hate to say it but sometimes they are believed but nothing is done so as not to tarnish the good name of a once good and heroic Captain."   
  
Hornblower signalled the landlady and ordered food for them all, keeping his voice down so as not to distract Wellard and Kennedy. Then he looked at Kennedy.   
  
*We have to rescue him, Archie. *   
  
*I know, we can't let him go back. If this kind of thing is happening we need to tell Captain Hargreaves and Captain Pellew. I suggest we wait until the lad has eaten and then take him home with us. Captain Hargreaves will want to take a look at his back. I think we may have found them an Acting Lieutenant. *   
  
*You may be right. *   
  
"Mr Wellard, if you will trust us we would like to take you home to our Captain's house. He's trained as a physician and it would be a good idea to have him take a look at those stripes of yours. I suspect that you have a fever too, and could do with some rest and a little nursing."   
  
"I could not impose on you or your Captain. Besides if it got back to Captain Sawyer..." he stopped horrified at having betrayed himself. Kennedy and Hornblower looked at one another, equally horrified.   
  
"Dear God!" said Kennedy "We really do need to have you talk to our Captains. They'll know what to do."   
  
Wellard hung his head and Kennedy smiled at him.   
  
"I know you're telling the truth Mr Wellard and the Captains will too. Please trust us. At the very least we can look after you and get you off the Renown."   
  
"Really?" was the hesitant reply.   
  
"Really!" replied Archie, full of confidence. "Finish your meal, lad, and we'll be off." 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Fortunately it wasn't far, only a few minutes walk. As they opened the door they became aware of music drifting down the stairs from the library.   
  
"What is this place?" Wellard looked around with wide, dark eyes.   
  
"This is Captain John Hargreaves' house. We're staying here until the Merlin is refitted. Captain Pellew's here as well. Probably in the library listening to Jack singing." He grinned.   
  
As they reached the top of the stairs they could hear Jack's voice;   
  
Under the Dog Star sail   
  
Over the reefs of moonshine   
  
Under the skies of fall   
  
North north west the stones of Faroe   
  
Under the Arctic fire   
  
Over the seas of silence   
  
Hauling on frozen ropes   
  
For all my days remaining   
  
Would north be true?   
  
All colours bleed to red   
  
Asleep on the ocean's bed   
  
Drifting in empty seas   
  
For all my days remaining   
  
But would north be true?   
  
Why should I?   
  
Why should I cry for you?   
  
Dark angels follow me   
  
Over a godless sea   
  
Mountains of endless falling   
  
For all my days remaining   
  
What would be true?  
  
Sometimes I see your face   
  
Stars seem to lose their place   
  
Why must I think of you?   
  
Why must I?   
  
Why should I?   
  
Why should I cry for you?   
  
Why would you want me too?   
  
And what would it mean to say   
  
"That I loved you in my fashion"?   
  
What would be true?   
  
Why should I?   
  
Why should I cry for you? * *  
  
The music was haunting and beautiful. The singer's voice (Captain Hargreaves?) ached with grief and loss. The sense of desolation was heartbreaking and Wellard wondered if the writer was speaking through experience. The three of them waited just outside the door, listening, unable to turn away but not wanting to disturb those in the room   
  
"Do you think he wrote this himself?" Hornblower whispered.   
  
"Yes, I do...and I think he wrote it for Captain Pellew." Archie's answering whisper was little more than breath.   
  
Wellard wondered what kind of man wore his feelings on his skin, like a tattoo for anyone to see. Who was articulate enough to put those emotions to words and music and sing them to the person about whom the song was written? That would require a particular type of courage.   
  
There was movement in the room, swift footsteps from the piano to the fire.   
  
Kennedy knocked hesitantly for he could hear his Captains speaking together in low tones. There was a hesitation, followed by an inquisitory whisper from Hargreaves, then:  
  
"Come in!" Pellew's voice. The scene as they entered was a little odd. Pellew sat in one of the wing chairs, leaning forward slightly, his face hidden. He straightened as they came through the door, withdrawing his hands from Hargreaves' clasp. His friend knelt at Pellew's feet and, as they entered he moved until he was seated on the rug, a little to Pellew's left with his knees drawn up under his chin.   
  
Wellard was surprised. They were both so much younger than he'd expected. Pellew's public mask was back in place, he looked both calm and capable. He seemed a good deal older than his companion, possibly in his early forties, very attractive with dark hair, burning brown eyes and a resolute mouth. He looked like what he was: a doughty leader of men, both noble and compassionate. No wonder Hornblower and Kennedy trusted him. He fully understood their pride in him and wondered how long it would be before he felt the same way. He suspected that Captain Sawyer might have been like this before his encounter with paranoia and addiction.  
  
Hargreaves was of an all together different type. He had a feline cast about him and this impression was strengthened by the fact that he sat completely unselfconsciously at his friend's feet. He was slender but Wellard couldn't guess at his height, curled up as he was. He was in silk shirtsleeves, open at the neck and his velvet waistcoat hung unbuttoned. His eyes were of a blue so deep as to be almost black and his hair bright golden-white. He seemed unearthly. His glance made Wellard a little uncomfortable. It seemed to penetrate all the way to his soul. He couldn't be as young as he looked. If he had written the song he'd heard just a few moments before it suggested a heart and soul far more experienced than a mere twenty something years.   
  
Hargreaves glanced at Pellew then turned back to the three young men with a smile. "Did you pass a pleasant evening?"  
  
"Yes, thank you, Jack. Miss Cobham was on form." Archie grinned.  
  
"And who is this?" Hargreaves smiled kindly at Wellard. He took a look at the lad's aura and didn't like what he saw. There was a great deal of pain evident in his colours. He'd been abused, physically, emotionally and spiritually. Yet that spirit was still strong, his personality both upright and loyal. Jack liked him. They'd found him in time. They had their Third Lieutenant.  
  
*Pell? We need to recruit him. We need him. He needs us. * Jack's touch was light and swift.  
  
*Everything's falling into place, isn't it?   
  
*The Wyrd is working with us. Things will happen very fast, now. *  
  
"This is Henry Wellard, Sirs, lately midshipman aboard the Renown. " Hornblower said with a smile.  
  
"Lately? And why is that?" Jack broke off. "Damn, where are my manners?" He rose to his feet in one fluid, feline movement and poured wine for all of them. Archie moved to help him with the glasses. At that moment there was a knock on the door and Tatiana walked into the room, accompanied by another, unfamiliar Lieutenant. He was smaller than Tatiana and very slight. He had long dark hair, braided and bound and an arresting pair of smoky green eyes. His manner was both very confident and very gentle.  
  
"Ah, " Jack smiled at the newcomers " Mr Wellard, these are Lieutenants Robert Loxley and Tatiana Markarova."  
  
"You have a female Lieutenant, Sir?" Wellard had never heard of such a thing.  
  
"We do indeed and I'd wager she's among the Fleet's finest." Hargreaves smiled at Tatiana, who smiled back at him without a trace of embarrassment at his praise. He appreciated her and told her so frequently.  
  
Lieutenant Loxley looked across at Hornblower and Kennedy and raised a knowing eyebrow at Jack.  
  
*Both wizards, Jack? *  
  
*Indeed*  
  
*One of them is a healer. You've done well. *  
  
*And the other's a pooka...*  
  
*Are you considering a new assignment, Robin? *  
  
*Do you think he'd have me? *  
  
*Are you mad or merely insane? He'll figure out who you are and snaffle you before you've had time to turn around! I'd miss you, you know that, but don't let that effect your decision. *  
  
*Do you like him well enough?* Jack inquired.  
  
*I like what I see in his aura. I need to get to know him. And see if he likes me.* Robert sounded thoughtful.  
  
*Can you deal with the competition?*  
  
*You're asking me this?* Robert raised an eyebrow.  
  
*Actually I think you'd manage very well.* Jack smiled.  
  
Robert looked thoughtful, his eyes resting on the oblivious Archie.  
  
Jack pulled two more chairs closer to the fire and the two Lieutenants sat down.  
  
"I believe Mr Wellard has some disturbing news for us." Kennedy said, quietly.  
  
All eyes turned to the reluctant midshipman.  
  
"Captain Sawyer is ill. I'm not sure how to say this without blaming him as he's really not responsible for his actions."  
  
"What is he doing that's causing you such distress?" Pellew looked concerned.  
  
"He seems to believe that his officers are out to get him. He's constantly accusing us of undermining his authority. Particularly me. He's taken me in a vicious dislike and I don't know what to do about it."  
  
"How do you mean, 'vicious'?" Pellew interjected.  
  
"I mean beatings, constantly shouting at me and accusing me of things I've never even thought of. And lately he's been flogging me."  
  
"Show them." Archie said, his voice quiet and dangerous. His knuckles were white and his jaw was set.  
  
Wellard hesitated, looking to Pellew for permission. Pellew nodded. He removed his coat and waistcoat and winced as the fabric of his shirt stuck to the wounds. Archie was on his feet in seconds, steadying the boy as he swayed. Tatiana went to get warm water to soak the wound so the fabric could be removed. She reappeared moments later with a bowl in which she'd steeped a bouquet of antiseptic herbs and some clean cloths with which to apply the water. She handed them to Hargreaves, who sat Wellard down with his head on his knees.  
  
"Tati, will you help him with the pain...?" She nodded and placed her hands lightly on his head. The pain subsided as she blocked the pain receptors in Wellard's brain. It was an effective anaesthetic but was dangerous if used for long periods. Wellard relaxed. He could feel the soaking water and the pulling as Hargreaves removed the material from the wound but no pain.  
  
"Pell?" Jack called him over.  
  
"God!" Pellew was horrified. Here was the evidence of several consecutive floggings, one after the other. The earliest ones were half healed but the later ones were still raw and bleeding.  
  
"What do you want to do?" Jack asked them both. "We need to take some kind of action. I won't have him sent back, Pell."  
  
"What would you like us to do, Mr Wellard? Would you like to transfer to another ship? We have a position open aboard the Merlin. We'll take your story to the Admiralty and let them deal with Captain Sawyer but we can't let you go back to the Renown. Tati? Will you please organise a room for Mr Wellard?" She nodded and left the room.  
  
"I don't know the Merlin, Sir, but you've all been so kind. I really didn't think anyone would care."  
  
"Very well, you are now Acting Third Lieutenant aboard the Merlin. What do you want to do with these wounds, Jack? They're evidence..."  
  
"I'll treat them so they'll be clean and deal with the pain, but it's likely that the Admiralty will want to appoint their own examiner."  
  
Pellew nodded. "I'll write to the Admiralty and Captain Sawyer and inform them of Mr Wellard's whereabouts and transfer and then wait for the explosion. Pellew smiled at Hargreaves sidelong then went to the desk and pulled ink, quill and paper from the drawer. He wrote hastily and heavily, breaking his quill twice and having to stop and sharpen it. He was very, very angry. He cast a look at the white-faced Kennedy who had barely banked fury in his eyes. This raised many ghosts for him and Pellew realised that both Wellard and Kennedy would need support.  
  
Wellard slept late next morning and it took him several minutes to remember what had happened the night before. He'd slept like the dead all night and was very pleased to find that the pain from his lacerated back was much improved. He snuggled down into the quilt feeling safe for the first time in months. 


	7. chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
A short time later Hargreaves knocked on the door carrying a tray containing Wellard's breakfast. He set it down on the bedside table before smiling reassuringly at Wellard.  
  
"Are you feeling better this morning, Henry?"   
  
"Yes, Sir, much better. It hardly hurts at all."  
  
"There's no need to call me 'Sir', Henry, we aren't on duty. Just call me Jack."  
  
"It seems very strange to me, Jack, but I'll try." he smiled hesitantly at his new captain.  
  
"Stout lad!" he grinned "Captain Pellew has gone off to the Admiralty to band on Admiral Hood's desk and let him know what's going on aboard the Renown."  
  
"What will happen?"  
  
"Admiral Lord Hood isn't in Captain Pellew's good books right now so I expect it will be a lively interview." Jack smiled mischievously at his new Acting Lieutenant. "He's spoiling for a fight. I pity the Admiral!"  
  
"What happens now, Jack?"  
  
"Well, you need your breakfast, then I'll take a look at those stripes. Captain Pellew will be back soon with a medical examiner. When he's had a look at you I'll heal you properly, then you and I go and get your possessions from the Renown. Is there anyone there you need to say goodbye to?"  
  
The idea of returning to the Renown, even if it was only to pick up his gear frightened Wellard. It showed in his aura but it didn't take a wizard to figure out what was going on.  
  
"Henry, you have nothing to fear, you'll be with me and if he attacks you again I'll maul him. Believe me, I'm very good at protecting my own." His eyes were as calm and as deep as midnight.  
  
Wellard nodded, wondering how this gentle creature could talk so calmly about mauling the formidable, insane Sawyer." I don't really have any friends. Anyone I spent time with came under suspicion so people avoided me. I can't really blame them." The pain was clear in his aura. There was shame there as well. Wellard's head drooped and he wouldn't look at Hargreaves. The wizard gathered the lad in his arms and held him close. Wellard wept against his shoulder.  
  
"You have nothing to fear, Henry, and nothing to be ashamed of." He lifted Wellard's chin to force the boy to meet his eyes. "Captain Sawyer's behaviour has corrupted his entire crew. He hated you because you resisted it. Be proud, you deserve to be!" He let go of Wellard's chin and poured the lad a cup of coffee. "Here, kitling, drink and relax. You're under my protection now. He won't touch you again."  
  
"Jack, who are you? I feel as if I should know you. You're so familiar but I can't recall..."  
  
"That's because in a way you do know me. Almost everyone in the Fleet has heard of me, tells stories about me. "  
  
"You're that Hargreaves?" Wellard's dark eyes flashed as if some veil had been removed from his them and he could finally see.  
  
"I am indeed. I see you know me now. I know I look a little odd, so it helps to cloud people's minds a little so that I can pass among them unsuspected. I attract attention otherwise"  
  
Wellard could well believe it. The strange thing was that he didn't feel shy now. Or ashamed. Or sad. He smiled, feeling as if he'd come home.  
  
Pellew arrived, slamming the front door and cursing volubly in three languages. With him was a rather terrified Medical Examiner. Hargreaves appeared at the head of the staircase. He grinned at his incensed friend.  
  
"Mr Wellard is up here, gentlemen." The two men climbed the stairs and Jack fell into step with his friend. "Well? What happened? " Pellew smiled at him but the anger still burned in his eyes. "Jack, I swear I'm never going to be able to have a conversation with Hood without losing my temper. I try, God knows, I try, but since you returned he can't mention you without casting aspersions on your character. And I won't tolerate that! I'm starting to think he's just trying to provoke me."  
  
"Pell, you really shouldn't let him bother you. I don't give a highly coloured damn what he thinks of me. You don't have to come to my rescue."  
  
Pellew fumed more quietly. He wondered what exactly was going on here and resolved to explore the subject with Jack at a more convenient time. He suspected he was missing some vital piece of information that would make the whole issue understandable. "How's our young lion?" he asked, dismissing the previous subject for the time being.  
  
"He's doing very well. Much happier this morning. We'll go and pick up his gear this afternoon."  
  
*How much does he know?*  
  
* A good deal but not everything. He knows I'm that Hargreaves but not that I'm Merlin.*  
  
*I see. And he's coping all right?*  
  
*He seems quite pleased, actually. I think he scents an adventure in the offing. He also feels safe. I wonder how long it's been since he felt that. *  
  
*Far too long, I'd wager.*  
  
Wellard was sprawled on his bed with a book and smiled as the three of them entered the room. His eyes were bright and he seemed to be in excellent spirits.  
  
With the wounds on his back exposed to the ME's gaze, Wellard lost a little of his confidence. He wasn't sure how the man would react. It was possible that he would minimise the entire problem as Dr Clive had. He didn't, however, and was as shocked as the others had been.  
  
"This will be investigated, Sirs. This simply cannot go on. I'll arrange for your transfer immediately, young man."  
  
Healing was one of the strangest and most pleasurable experiences Wellard had ever encountered. It was a little like his mother's embrace, a little like watching sun shining through rain, leaving a rainbow in it's wake, a little like love reflected in the eyes of a friend. He sank into a warm, purring, sensual state. His mind and body relaxed completely for the first time in years. He was safe here, appreciated. He realised the right person, in the right place at the right time. It was ironic that if Sawyer hadn't abused him he wouldn't be here. It was worth all the pain he had endured to experience this perfect moment. It was almost as if it had all been planned. He turned over, slowly, not wanting to disturb his mood and saw Jack smiling down at him. He was quite sure that Jack was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He wrapped his arms about the healer's neck and clung tightly. Jack sang under his breath as he sheltered the vulnerable lad in strong, protective arms. The magic enveloped them. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
"Pell, would you care to come with us?" Hargreaves asked of his friend.  
  
"Yes, Jack, I would. I think there'll be trouble." Pellew had donned his public mask again and looked impassive and unemotional but Hargreaves was well aware of the fires that burned beneath that controlled exterior.  
  
"And you want to be there to protect us?" Jack smiled at him with deep affection.  
  
" Yes." Pellew's mask slipped a little. He wouldn't be happy unless he was there to offer such aid as he could.  
  
"Well then you'd better get your cloak."   
  
The rain still hadn't slackened and the three of them were very damp by the time they stood on the Renown's deck. They were greeted by Lieutenant Buckland, who wasn't at all certain what to make of them. It wasn't often that two captains intervened on behalf of a mere Midshipman. Particularly one as illustrious as Captain Sir Edward Pellew. He had no idea where Hargreaves fitted into this situation. He had an idea he should remember the name but it eluded his grasp. He wasn't aware of any Captains as young as Hargreaves appeared to be but Pellew treated him as both an equal and a friend. Most strange. He sent a message to Captain Sawyer, inquisitive as to how his own captain would deal with the situation. Sawyer returned the message, inviting them to his cabin.  
  
"Captain Pellew, I'm proud to have you aboard my ship!" Sawyer shook Pellew's hand heartily. Then he turned to Hargreaves "And Lieutenant...?" Obviously attempting to slight the other captain.  
  
"This is Captain Jack Hargreaves..." Pellew was firm in giving Jack his rank. "As you can plainly see by looking at his uniform."  
  
Sawyer looked Jack over from his blonde head to his immaculate heels and gave a faint sneer, wondering who this young upstart had slept with in order to achieve such a rank in spite of his apparent youth. Hargreaves looked back at him, tranquil and confident, a faint smile on his lips. Sawyer snorted his irritation and turned back to Pellew.  
  
"What can I do for you, Sir?"  
  
"We came as a courtesy, Captain Sawyer. Mr Wellard has been transferred to our command, the Merlin." Pellew's face was calm and impassive but Hargreaves could feel the burn of his anger.  
  
"Two captains? That's a turn up for the books!" Sawyer's voice as just this side of insolent. "I hope you get on well together or you'll be at one another's throats. I expect you do, though..." Sawyer's smile was suggestive and barbed. Pellew gritted his teeth.  
  
"Captain Hargreaves, please take Mr Wellard below and get his gear." His voice was dangerously calm, even and commanding. He had to get his friend out from under this madman's eye. Jack blinked at him in surprise. He'd never heard Pellew use that tone of voice. He saw the point, though, and nodded. Pellew almost breathed a sigh of relief and Jack smiled at him. *What did you think I'd do, Pell? Refuse? If you want me away from the man, I'm only too happy to oblige. He might listen to you...*  
  
Jack turned, touching Wellard's shoulder. The boy fell into step beside him as he headed down the companionway and below.  
  
Sawyer rounded on Pellew. "What is the meaning of this? You have no right to give orders on board my ship!"  
  
"Then don't treat my friend as if he was a whore!" Pellew's voice was low and flinty. His expression gave Sawyer pause. He'd obviously struck close to Pellew's heart. He smiled unpleasantly.  
  
"Your 'friend' is it then?" Sawyer leaned towards him. "How old is he? Twenty five at most, I'd conjecture...Just how does he qualify for his rank?" Sawyer was whispering now, his breath hot against Pellew's cheek. "Should this be reported to the Admiralty, do you think?"  
  
"And report what, exactly?" Pellew tried very hard to control his temper.   
  
"I'm not sure, not yet, but I'm sure a little research would pay off."  
  
"You do that. You might even guess who he is, though I doubt it, ." Pellew's voice grated, gravelly and angry.  
  
"And what of my Midshipman, Captain Pellew? By what right do you poach my crew?"  
  
"If you don't like it I suggest you take the matter up with Admiral Lord Hood. That boy was half dead by the time my Lieutenants found him. But for Jack's skill as a physician he'd probably have died of his fever last night."  
  
"And good riddance to him! That boy's a trouble maker and will cause you nothing but grief! Well, that's your problem!"  
  
"Indeed. But perhaps it's your behaviour that calls for investigation, Sir. I don't believe that child is capable of the malice or incompetence that would have justified your treatment of him. Yes, I saw the wounds on his back. You must have beaten him repeatedly, in rapid succession to cause that sort of damage. Have you been taking lessons from the Marquis de Sade? You might be interested to know that I spoke to Admiral Hood this morning and arranged Wellard's transfer personally and I made sure he understood the necessity. I'm sure he'll contact you soon enough." Pellew's rage was hot enough to scorch.  
  
Hargreaves and Wellard returned at that moment and as Pellew turned to them, Sawyer drew his dagger and lunged at him, sheathing the weapon in Pellew's side. Hargreaves roared and flung himself at his friend's attacker. Sawyer hit the deck beneath him. Jack bared his sharp, leopard teeth and growled deep in his chest.  
  
"The only reason you still live is that he needs me more than I need vengeance for what you've done to him! Be very sure that if he dies you will not live to see another dawn. You'd better start praying! " Jack hissed, his face was wild, terrifying, it's beauty and savagery mixed into a heady brew. Sawyer looked back at him, trembling, eyes wide with shock. Hargreaves rose and stood looking down at Sawyer, disgusted, then turned his back on him. He knelt beside the fallen Pellew. Blood stained the floor, Pellew's clothing and Hargreaves' hands. He touched the wound and the bleeding stopped.  
  
"We must get him home where I can care for him." Jack said to Wellard, who knelt at his side.  
  
Pellew struggled to rise. "I refuse to be carried out of here on my shield! Help me up.." He was resolved so his companions did as he asked. He drew on the shreds of his remaining energy and stalked, unsupported to the door and out onto the deck as Sawyer scrambled to his feet. His companions strode after him. Getting down to the jollyboat was far more difficult and the exertion caused Pellew to pass out. He fell heavily into Hargreaves' arms. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Hargreaves had noticed that he'd been angry far more often than usual over the past couple of days. Right now he was livid that anyone would dare to hurt his friend. Having lived with himself for over thirteen hundred years he was well aware that for him fear had a tendency to masquerade as anger. It was really fear that he was feeling. After all he'd lost his friend for fifteen years and had no intention of losing him to Death's embrace now . He gestured to Archie, who came across and helped him to remove Pellew's jacket, waistcoat and shirt. Wellard stood by the door with Horatio, racked with guilt, feeling that he was responsible for Sawyer's attack on Pellew. Horatio comforted him and tried to help him see where the responsibility truly lay.  
  
Pellew was still unconscious but Jack knew that he'd come around some time during the healing process so he wasn't overly concerned. He rested his hand on Pellew's forehead for a moment, checking in his condition, then he turned to Archie.  
  
"I'd like you to come in with me, Archie. You have the power to do this now, you only need to be shown. " Archie looked at Jack in surprise, then: "What do I do?"  
  
Jack smiled. "The first thing we'll need to do is link minds. This is more than telepathy. I need you to be able to see what I'm doing and that means letting you into my mind and allowing you to see who and what I really am. Frightening, but I trust you. The first thing I need to do is to teach you how to leave your body."  
  
Jack rested his thumbs on each of Archie's temples, relaxing him and then, very gently, he pulled the young man out of his body. Archie looked down at himself, standing next to his teacher. A silver cord connected body and spirit, tethering his wandering 'self' to the gross matter that he usually inhabited. He watched as Horatio, sensing that something strange was happening, moved over to them. Wellard followed him. Then, finally, he saw the truth. He was free, free of his body's pain, it's treacherous physical memory, it's limitations. He reached out and touched Horatio's cheek. His friend touched the spot with his own warm hand and Archie knew that even in this form he could influence the physical world. Was this how it felt to Tatiana and Robert? Probably. He had so many questions but no time.  
  
Suddenly he felt Jack touch him. *Here, I'll show you...* He pulled Archie close to him and then opened up, engulfing his apprentice. The first thing he was aware of was the music. It danced and played within Jack's mind. Different kinds of music from different times. It gave him a warm, joyful feeling, and a kind of awe that Jack trusted him enough to allow him to hear it and see it. The music surged around him, some familiar but some was strange, it's form unfamiliar but no less beautiful for that. Jack's mind was like a house, the house his soul inhabited but there were other beings that made their home here as well. Some were ghosts, others were creatures of memory, some archetypes, creatures of myth and legend. Archie opened a 'door' and discovered something both important and unexpected. Behind the door was a forest and he could hear voices off to one side. As he turned he saw two young men. One was tall and blonde, with blue eyes that glittered in the gloom. He also had a wicked, playful smile and a swagger in his walk. The other was smaller, slight with long, straight, dark hair. His manner was wary, looking left and right. He was dressed in browns and greens and there was a heavy golden torque resting against his collarbones. He turned his head and seemed to look directly at Archie and the young healer could see his eyes. They were the deep brown of fertile earth, touched with gold. They the eyes of a visionary, a great leader, the kind of person who saw a situation from the smallest detail to the grand sweep of implication and time. An integrator with a heart as great as his vision. Those eyes reminded him...Suddenly the youth smiled and Archie could see Edward Pellew's soul looking out of those eyes. Archie had no idea what was going on but he knew he'd just seen Jack's most powerful motivation.  
  
*I'll explain, Archie, later. We have work to do...*  
  
*Of course, how can I help?*   
  
*I just want you to watch. You may have to do it yourself next time.* Jack caught hold of Archie and they started to sink into Pellew's body. There was no need for speech, Archie could feel what his teacher was doing. He became aware of the faltering flow of Pellew's energy as their own augmented it.  
  
*He'll probably start to come round soon. He's stable now so we can work without worrying.*  
  
They went deeper and deeper, feeling Pellew regaining consciousness around them, like lights being lit in a house. Cell by cell, muscle by muscle, ligament by ligament and blood vessel by blood vessel Jack repaired his friend's body. Archie watched and listened carefully still amazed that he was actually capable of doing this himself.  
  
*A word of warning, Archie. When people come around after a major injury like this they can be very unpredictable. The more energy you've expended the stronger the response will be. They're still feeling very emotionally vulnerable so be careful how you react or you could hurt their feelings.*  
  
Archie wasn't quite sure what he meant but doubtless he'd soon find out. It took Jack half an hour to heal his friend and by the time he'd completed the task Pellew had regained consciousness. Archie found himself back in his own body with a jolt.  
  
"Jack?" Pellew sounded plaintive and a little confused. Both were so completely uncharacteristic and vulnerable that Hornblower and Wellard felt they were intruding.  
  
"I'm here, Pell." Jack's tone was low and deeply affectionate. Pellew gave a strange little cry and wrapped himself around Jack's slim form. Jack returned the embrace, holding his companion tightly and started to hum, softly and sweetly under his breath.  
  
"I love it when you do that." Pellew spoke quietly.  
  
"Sing or heal you?" Jack smiled gently. "You do realise, don't you, that you can just ask me? You don't have to be wounded first." Jack grinned, playfully at him.  
  
"You mean I don't need an excuse? I wish you'd told me that years ago!" He rested his forehead against the healer's neck, trying to hide the nakedness of his emotion.  
  
"Well, now you know." Jack's hand rested against the back of Pellew's head, cradling it gently.  
  
Archie watched in complete surprise. So this is what he meant. The intensity of their emotion was almost frightening but it was beautiful as well. Jack was a very emotionally open person but Pellew was usually very guarded, protected behind the walls of reserve that he'd erected to separate his public and his private persona. Those walls lay in ruins at Jack's feet. It would take time to rebuild them but Archie was sure they would not be impregnable this time. Rather to Archie's surprise Pellew extended a hand to him and looked at him without shifting his head from Jack's shoulder. He placed his hand in the Captain's.  
  
"Thank you, Archie. I know you were there, too, and I'm grateful that it was so."  
  
"I'm afraid I didn't do much, Sir." Archie replied.  
  
"No, Archie, you did more than you know. You helped and supported Jack, you learned more about how to use your skills. Gentleness and good will are always valuable." Pellew released Archie's hand. "I'm fortunate to have such good friends." His smile took in Hornblower and Wellard and the two came closer "I think we had better drop the 'Sir', too. It really isn't appropriate now. On duty it's necessary, but now it's just hollow."   
  
"Edward," Wellard began "I'm sorry. If it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have been on board the Renown and you wouldn't have been injured."  
  
"Henry, listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. Before you came and warned us the Renown was heading for disaster. If she went into battle we'd have lost her and her crew. You prevented that, you, Lieutenant Wellard, and you alone. We have proof now that Sawyer should be removed from his command. He might be able to explain away his treatment of you but he can't attempt to kill a brother Captain and expect to get away with it. And what's more he did it before witnesses." Wellard nodded.  
  
"By the way Jack, what did you do to him? I heard you roar but I blacked out after that."  
  
"I frightened him. I should probably have torn out his throat, but I was more concerned about you."  
  
"It's a good thing you didn't, my friend. We'd have lost the moral high ground if you had, whatever the provocation."  
  
"I wasn't thinking about that at the time." Jack sounded rueful.  
  
"I know, Tigerlily." Pellew smiled as his fingers wrapped around Jack's cue and tugged gently.   
  
Archie blinked, astonished that they could discuss such things so calmly. He could scarcely imagine the usually gentle Hargreaves talking about literally tearing out the throat of another human being. Or of Pellew accepting it without comment. He could hardly imagine the protective rage Jack must have felt to be prepared to do such a terrible thing. Then he saw a flash of insight and realised that although Jack had a particular affection for Pellew he would have done the same for any of them. That was a sobering thought. And then there was the nickname. It was certainly descriptive: Jack had behaved like a tiger and did look like a lily but it was curious that Pellew would speak it when there were others present. Obviously he was very emotionally unbalanced.  
  
He felt Horatio's hand on his shoulder and looked up into his friend's dark eyes.  
  
"Is all well, Mr Kennedy?" Hornblower asked gently, not wishing to intrude but needing contact.  
  
"Very much so." replied Archie, quietly. "It was...amazing. That's an understatement. And I know I can do it myself."  
  
"Is the reaction normal? I've never seen Captain Pellew...clingy...before."  
  
"I believe so. Jack told me that the strength of the reaction is proportional to the amount of energy the healer uses. It seems to bother neither of them."  
  
"Everything's changed, Archie, for all of us. Even our identities are changing. None of the rules seem to apply now."  
  
"Does it distress you?"  
  
"No, I like it but I feel like I'm about to jump of a cliff. A strange sense of vertigo."  
  
"I know. It's best to jump, 'Ratio, and not think about it. Did you feel it when I touched you, earlier?"  
  
"That was you? Yes, I felt it as clearly as if you'd touched me with your hand."  
  
"Good! That's something I should explore. I think you'll be able to do it as well. It could be very useful." Archie started running through the possibilities. They seemed endless. He smiled up at Horatio.  
  
"Will he be all right, do you think, Arch?"  
  
"Edward? Oh, yes. He'll be well. He'll need to sleep soon, though. He lost quite a lot of blood so he'll feel weak for a few days. That was the only thing Jack couldn't do anything about."  
  
Archie suddenly felt exhausted and leaned slightly against his friend's shoulder.  
  
"Are you all right, Archie. You look like you've not slept in a week."  
  
"I think so, 'Ratio. I'm new to this and I really don't know what to expect." He sighed and leaned more heavily against his friend. Horatio's arm tightened, pulling Archie closer.  
  
"Maybe you should get some sleep?" Horatio was very solicitous.  
  
"Yes, I should but I want to wait until Edward sleeps as well. I don't think they'll need me but I wouldn't feel right leaving until I'm sure."  
  
He glanced across at the bed where Hargreaves still held Pellew tightly as Wellard watched them with dark, serious eyes.  
  
"Jack must be tired, too. He did most of the work." said Archie. Horatio nodded.  
  
Archie leaned back against Horatio and made a tiny contented noise. The lethargy was quite pleasant and Archie was happy to float with it. He was enjoying the support of Horatio's strong arm as well. He was very much aware of his friend. He usually was aware of Horatio but never quite like this. It was probably to do with his new found skills, he reasoned. He was aware of his friend's warmth, of the clean, white flame of life that burned within him, of the blood that surged through his veins and the beating of the heart that pumped it. Then he became aware of that glowing spirit, innocent in so many ways, canny and devious in so many others. He reached out and touched it. It shivered for a moment and then engulfed him. Warmth and swirling light, support, laughter and affection. He felt his knees buckle and was dimly aware that Horatio had picked him up.  
  
Voices. Jack and Horatio. He heard and recognised them but he couldn't understand what they were saying. Then he sank into a warm and comfortable darkness in which he felt safe and protected. He could feel Horatio's soul wrapped about him and smiled against his friend's shoulder. Nothing in life could be finer than this.  
  
When Pellew finally woke the fire in his room had burned down to embers and the grey light of another cold and rainy dawn seeped past the curtains. It was warm in here, though, and pleasant. The feather bed thick and the eiderdown soft. The sheets were scented with neroli. It was then that he heard a deep sigh from somewhere in the bedding and realised that he wasn't alone. He found he couldn't remember much of what had happened the afternoon before but he did remember the feel of Sawyer's dagger slicing into him. That meant that his companion had to be Jack. Jack would never have left his closest friend to wake alone under circumstances such as this. He was astonished by the strength of his feelings for his friend. A powerful wave of love and delight welled up within him and it's intensity left him gasping. He'd had strong feelings for Jack all his adult life but the sudden power of this surprised him. Something to do with the healing magic that Jack had used to save his life? He'd ask when Jack woke. Jack murmured in his sleep and shifted closer, seeking warmth. It wasn't long before he curled up against Pellew's side with his blonde head resting against his friend's shoulder. Pellew slid an arm about him, holding him close.  
  
He felt fifteen years younger. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
Jack knew he would dream deeply that night. Pell was healed and sleeping.  
  
His command crew was gathered and the specifications for the new work to the  
  
Merlin commissioned. One of his apprentices had begun to use his talents.  
  
The other would when he truly started to believe that those talents existed.  
  
He was also exhausted. He always reacted that way when he healed. Part of  
  
his soul left his body to reside with another, leaving him depleted. Sleep  
  
restored him but just as importantly the compassion of the act drew his  
  
father's presence. He could feel it in the room where he lay, Pellew asleep  
  
beside him. And he knew he would dream. He and the Hunter had many things to  
  
discuss, many decisions to make, many plans to lay. Most of them were to do  
  
with the man sleeping at his side. He turned, supporting his head on one  
  
hand, so he could watch Pell sleep.  
  
He could see Arthur's spirit in Pell so clearly. It positively glowed from  
  
his friend's eyes and whispered in his voice. He was the only one who'd be  
  
able to take Jack on on his own ground and hold his own. Pell was strong.  
  
Very strong.  
  
There was also something about the combination of Arthur's animating spirit  
  
and Pell's warm, funny, courageous personality that Jack found  
  
endlessly attractive. He smiled as the firelight played across his friend's  
  
face and diffused into his dark hair. None of Arthur's previous incarnations  
  
had stolen his heart as Pell had. There were many he'd been 'fond of', the  
  
affection of a teacher for a willing, gifted pupil. There had been many he'd  
  
considered as close friends, loyal and true. But there hadn't been a single  
  
one who had been able to make his heart sing as Pell could. He wondered if his friend realised.   
  
It would be a mistake to think of Pell as being Arthur. He wasn't. The animating spirit was the same one which had made Arthur glow so brightly in the darkness of the fifth century. But it's expression, the personality that clothed it was unique. The soul was merely energy, Sakti. The personality was expression, action and joy.  
  
He snuggled back down into the eiderdown, still watching the firelight on Pellew's face and listening for his father's voice in the darkness.  
  
Myrddin knew he was dreaming. He also knew he was in control. The trees towered  
  
over him, linden, oak, rowan and several species that no longer existed  
  
anywhere else but here. In the Green. He smiled, holding his arms wide and  
  
turning beneath the trees, his eyes gazing up at the canopy. He felt so  
  
happy! It had been many, many years since he'd felt this kind of joy. He  
  
knew that it's cause was the return of Pell's presence to his life and he  
  
also knew that he had no reason to try and contain it here. Words and music  
  
bubbled up within him and he could do nothing but let them flow through him.  
  
He sang, the ancient Gaelic ringing through the Forest and gliding higher  
  
and higher into the leafy canopy above him. Then he began to dance. The  
  
steps perfect, impossibly graceful. They had to be because the dance was a  
  
spell of summoning and would draw the Hunter to him.  
  
And suddenly the Hunter was there, dancing with him. He was much taller than Myrddin, solid and muscular in proportion but he was graceful for all his size. His eyes were golden amber and his tawny hair fell lose to his shoulders. He wore soft leather leggings and a swirling cloak of feathers fell from his shoulders. The most astonishing thing about him, however, were the huge antlers that sprang proudly from his forehead.  
  
Myrddin flung himself into the Hunter's arms, pressing his cheek against his father's broad chest.  
  
"Well child..." The Hunter stroked his hair affectionately "I see you have  
  
come to see me at last."  
  
"Have I been neglecting you, Father? I'm sorry..." Myrddin's arms wrapped a  
  
little tighter.  
  
"No child. But Stormdancer fills your heart so you think of me less, call to me less. It is always that way with children.   
  
All is as it should be but If I told you it didn't matter I'd be lying to you." He smiled a little sadly.  
  
Myrddin looked up at the Hunter severely. "Father, have you forgotten what I  
  
do every year at Mabon? What greater gift have I to give you? It allows you to walk the Earth and speak directly to those who need you. It enables the Green to regenerate and the Sidhe, my brothers and sisters, to walk with the sun on their faces. Another of the Dying Gods once said that there was no greater love than that which made a man lay down his life for his friend. I have done it thirteen hundred times since I became your high priest and I will continue to do so until the prophesies are fulfilled and Arthur's work is complete. So don't ever say that I don't love you, not even in jest, not even by implication!" His eyes flashed with anger and pride.  
  
The Hunter smiled at him. "Still my game little fighting cock? You were  
  
never one to hide your heart. I don't doubt either your love or your loyalty.  
  
I was just teasing you. Don't think yourself unappreciated, lad."  
  
Myrddin's anger vanished as quickly as it appeared. "What are you going to  
  
do, Sun-in-Rain? Will you tell him?" The Hunter asked.  
  
"Pell? I can think of a number of things I should tell him. Which do you  
  
have in mind?"  
  
The Hunter looked at him owlishly. "I meant his identity. Also Caliburn. Is  
  
he able to bear the knowledge, do you think?"  
  
Myrddin nodded. "Oh, yes. He's strong enough. I think he'd enjoy it,  
  
actually. He always likes having a hidden agenda. Crafty devil!" He smiled with sly appreciation.  
  
"It seems you have made up your mind."  
  
"Do you object, Father?"  
  
"Not at all. You know him best. He trusts you."  
  
"I've already let him down once. I don't want to do it again."  
  
"He would be the first to tell you that you did no such thing!"  
  
"He was being kind. And I think that for some reason he truly wanted me  
  
back."  
  
"Do you really think that the bond you share is any less powerful on his  
  
side? And remember that he knows far less than you. Don't be naive  
  
Sun-in-Rain..."  
  
Myrddin laughed. "It's been a very long time since anyone accused me of  
  
naivete, Father!"  
  
"Don't overlook the obvious, my dear."  
  
Myrddin looked thoughtful. "What now?" He asked eventually.  
  
"Find yourselves some knights." The Hunter raised an elegant eyebrow.  
  
"We have three already..."  
  
"And very fine they are, my son, but you'll need more than that."  
  
" I know but I'm loath to press matters and choose badly. You know what  
  
happened last time." Myrddin sounded pensive.  
  
"You were very young and Medraut managed to deceive you. You won't make the  
  
same mistake again. You'd pick up on his type in mere moments now.  
  
I understand your hesitation but there is at least one and possibly two other  
  
prospects that for some reason you seem to have overlooked. A ghostly knight  
  
is just as acceptable as a living one, Sun-in-Rain. Tatiana would make you  
  
proud. She's very fine indeed. "  
  
"Why didn't I think of that? She'd do as well as any man and she'd enjoy it,  
  
too." He felt a little ashamed at having overlooked his brave Tatiana and  
  
wondered if it had been because she was a ghost or because her favoured form  
  
happened to be female. Neither possibility was acceptable. He had been raised in a culture where women fought alongside their men, if necessary, and were a formidable fighting force. He should not have overlooked Tatiana.  
  
"And, of course, there's Robert of Loxley. That one has a history of both valour  
  
and resourcefulness."  
  
Myrddin blinked. Of course. Robin. What was wrong with him? He simply wasn't  
  
used to giving his spirit friends the independence needed to do this kind of  
  
work. But there was no reason why he shouldn't include the ghosts. They'd  
  
proven themselves time and again and he had more than enough energy to  
  
embody them whenever they liked. Robin might look unassuming, almost  
  
girlishly pretty, but he was as brave as any hero, had unshakeable nerve and was as wily as a fox. He more than made up for his lack of inches with sheer, bloody minded tenacity and cunning.   
  
And Robin was quite prepared to cheat, if necessary, a healthy antidote to all the painfully honest, honourable types that Myrddin seemed to be attracting. It had been strange to see him dressed in a uniform, rather than the muddy homespun he  
  
habitually wore, his hair braided into a neat que, rather than the loose, long, often tangled mane he usually assumed. He'd seemed impressive in spite of his small size. Rather like Archie, really.  
  
The Hunter went on as if he'd read Myrddin's mind.  
  
"You've done well attracting young Kennedy. I prophesy that he'll be one of  
  
the finest healers of the age. That combination of courage and selflessness  
  
is rare and costly to the giver. Kennedy has paid already and will continue  
  
to do so. Take good care of him, my dear, he'll need the support of all of  
  
you if he's to reach his full potential. Hornblower's not completely  
  
convinced but he's open to persuasion. Give him time and demonstration and he'll spread his wings and fly."  
  
"I believe you're right. Horatio has a scientific, empirical outlook on life. When he can fit magic into that framework he'll do well. I suspect that right now it seems all effect with no cause and that bothers him because it makes life seem anarchic. Anarchy is something he really can't cope with. Watching Archie heal will help, especially if Archie gets the chance to heal him. He's too honest to hold out in the face of overwhelming evidence."  
  
"Henry needs support as well. His ability to relax and trust has been seriously undermined. He's warmed to you because you healed him and he accepts the others because you do and because Pell was injured protecting you both. He's damaged, though, and it will be a while before he heals completely. Watch over him, Sun-in-Rain, and he'll be a brave and stalwart companion."  
  
Myrddin thought for a moment and then raised his eyes to meet the Hunter's.  
  
"May I bring Pell with me for the Mabon ritual. I'd like him to be my second, if he will."  
  
"Of course, lad. How could I deny you such a thing even if I wanted to?"  
  
"It's been so long since there was someone at my side. It's difficult enough when there's someone there to support me. Doing it alone..." his eyes dropped, haunted.  
  
"I know, my son. It's very hard and I hate asking it of you but you know there's no other way."  
  
Myrddin nodded. "Well, hopefully I won't be facing it alone this time." and with that he drifted into deeper, darker sleep. 


End file.
